


Goose Bumps 2.0

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Stress Relief [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Canon-Glossing, Custom Shepard (Mass Effect), Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Solo, Fish Death, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Mass Effect 2, Masturbation, No Shepard Without Vakarian, Occasionally canon heavy, Of an existing fic, POV Female Character, Paragade (Mass Effect), Past Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rewrite, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Shakarian - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: Rewrite of the existing and finished Goose Bumps, Part 1 of this series.Fiona Shepard woke up on a Cerberus operating table, apparently after being dead for two years. She wants nothing more than to see a familiar face, someone who will have her back as she works with her former enemies and tries to save the galaxy. Again.And then after one trip to Omega, she's reunited with her best friend in the galaxy.But he looks at her differently, now - and she can't seem to shake this new feeling. Especially not once she realizes it's not really a new feeling.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Stress Relief [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/872637
Comments: 35
Kudos: 58





	1. Archangel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Goose Bumps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709974) by [LarasLandlockedBlues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues). 



> So! The Shakarian muse has struck me once more, but Goose Bumps and Ride or Die were also the very first thing I wrote for fanfiction. And hooboy have I grown as a writer since I wrote them back in 2017! Since the muse is here, and I do actually _like_ these two fics, I decided I'd rather just polish and revamp them, and then continue Ride or Die - as a new fic!
> 
> This will be a process, and I don't post on an update schedule so we'll see what happens. The world is currently a disaster and while I have time to write, I also don't always have the spoons. However, rewriting what I have shouldn't take too long, but again - we'll have to see.
> 
> I decided to post these as new fics instead of just updating what was there because in a way - I'm proud to see blatant evidence of my growth as a writer. It's part of why I do this, and having hard evidence to compare side by side is pretty cool to me. So far as I've been reworking this, some of it has remained the same, and it will follow the same story. Just more fleshed out, trimmed up, polished, and chapters/word counts will definitely change. I'm also currently replaying the trilogy, so hopefully the muse sticks around so I can carry these two to their happy ending!
> 
> If you're a new reader - welcome! If you're a returning reader - welcome back! I hope you enjoy this revamped 2.0!
> 
> xx,  
> Lara
> 
> P.S. Also sorry that this still starts a little canon heavy - starting off on Omega still makes a great start, IMO.

Shepard was already sick of the stench of Omega. 

Standing in front of the mercenary recruiter, she tried her best not to scrunch her nose in distaste as the smell of Batarian and Krogan sweat overwhelmed her. Miranda gave a small cough behind Shepard, most likely trying to hold back her own gag as they waited in line.

The Batarian in front of them got his orders and left, pushing past Jacob’s shoulder with a dismissive grunt. Shepard straightened her spine and cocked an eyebrow lazily as she stepped forward.

“I hear you’re going after Archangel,” she greeted. “We want in.”

“You get paid after, if you die your friends don’t get your cut, and no - this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or Blood Pack,” the Batarian replied without looking up. He continued writing his tallies for a moment before he finally raised his many sets of eyes. “I see you already have your own gear…three of you?” 

At Shepard’s perfunctory nod, he waved them away from his desk. “Someone will meet you at the shuttles. I’d go soon, they’re about to begin another push.”

Shepard turned on her heel and jerked her head for the Cerberus agents to follow her. As she crossed the door’s threshold, a young boy bumped into her shoulder in his haste to reach the Batarian.

“I want in!” he cried eagerly, and the way his voice cracked made Shepard pause. Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a quick assessment and determined he couldn’t be older than seventeen, _maybe_ eighteen.

“Hey!”

“What?” He turned around, pimpled face contorted into a grimace he obviously meant to be intimidating. 

Instead, it merely caused Shepard to let out a snort. 

She took a step toward him, brows furrowed. The hand he had clenched around a gun twitched nervously. “How old are you?”

“I’m old enough! Just bought this new gun, too. Now step back, I want in —”

Shepard grabbed the gun out of his hand, and pounded it twice with the heel of her hand until the heat sink shorted and popped out. His jaw dropped and he reached for the mangled gun once more, which she gladly thrust at him.

“Get your money back, kid. Now beat it.” 

With that she turned back to a smirking Jacob, though Miranda rolled her eyes and quickly preceded them out of the room.

The shuttle driver was easily spotted in his Blue Suns armor, and Shepard greeted him before insisting that they were the last group and should get moving. She could see a few more of the freelancers heading their way, but she didn’t want any more joining the next push. If they were going to get Archangel out of this alive, they needed fewer obstacles in their way.

Their ride on the shuttle was quiet, the three of them avoiding talking to keep from giving their plans away. If it had been anyone from Shepard’s old crew, she would have been able to shoot the shit and avoid any suspicion. Instead she figured it was best to make it seem like they were strangers. Although, she realized, they essentially were. 

She had only had one conversation with Jacob, really, and her conversations with Miranda had raised so many red flags she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to have another. Her new work with Cerberus was causing her more latent anxiety than her work as a Spectre, and that was saying something. What she wouldn’t give to have even just one trustworthy member of her old crew with her. 

Mildly she realized that they would all have reservations about joining her now that she was with Cerberus. She found herself wondering if any of them would still have her back as they once had, the way she knew she still had theirs.

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the shuttle landing, and she exited with the other two. The sound of gunfire surrounded them, and Shepard took a moment to note its pattern. Bursts of fire from what sounded like a group, met moments later by one shot followed instantly by a scream of pain. Again, a burst of fire from a group, answered by a single shot and a body falling. 

Shepard smirked, recognizing that having such a great marksman would be an incredible asset to her team. She approached the nearest mercenary to ask the plan, and was then directed toward the front.

“ _Shepard_.”

“What is it EDI?” she whispered to the AI over comms.

“ _I have determined several ways to sabotage the mercenary’s current plans in order to help you rescue Archangel.”_

Shepard smiled to herself. “Send me nav points, EDI, that certainly sounds handy.”

The nav points led to the console for the mercenaries’ mechs, which she used to change their targeting, confusing friendlies for enemies. The other was to the mechanic working on fixing the gun ship. After a brief conversation, she waited until no one could see her and hit his suit’s energy pack with a nearby wrench, causing it to short and electrocute him. She left his inert body behind a stack of crates and then made her way to the meeting point for the next push, Miranda and Jacob behind her, guns out and ready. 

“On my signal,” she whispered to them, and then pushed forward with the next wave of mercenaries.

Archangel had positioned himself above a bridge, from which vantage point he could see every mercenary coming at him and pick them off easily. Shepard and her crew walked slightly slower than the others, and as Archangel began picking off the first mercenaries to cross the bridge, Shepard aimed her gun at the back of a particularly large human and pulled the trigger. Miranda and Jacob also took aim, and picked off two of the other freelancers. 

After a few seconds of chaotic confusion during which the three of them managed to take out as many mercenaries, they were discovered as traitors and the mercenaries began firing back. Shepard ducked behind cover, Miranda and Jacob to her right, and continued trying to take the pressure off their target.

In a wild moment of panic, she found herself hoping Archangel wasn’t so sleep deprived that he still targeted them as well. A few of the shots had been closer to where she crouched behind cover than she would have liked.

As soon as she had that thought, though, she found a charging Batarian taken out from one of Archangel’s well-aimed shots. Assured that he must have noticed them aiding him, she returned her focus to the remaining forces still between them and their target.

Her biotics were more powerful with the addition of cybernetics from Cerberus, and she tried not to think about the _why_ so much as she hurled a Singularity at a few of the mercs sharing cover. They yelped as they were yanked from the bridge and into the air, and Archangel took the opportunity to quickly take them out. Shepard ducked from cover as he did, racing further up the bridge to resume cover near his base.

Several harried moments later, they finally reached the way into Archangel’s base, Miranda and Jacob covering their six as Shepard holstered her gun. She hurried up the stairs, releasing the latches on her helmet as she ascended. 

She saw the tall, Turian form of Archangel set his rifle down and begin to remove his own helmet. He was chuckling ever so slightly, a twangy note of sub harmonics accenting the sound. 

“Archangel?” Shepard asked as she approached.

Archangel set his helmet down and then turned, sitting on some nearby crates to face them. Shepard’s breath caught and for a moment she could do nothing but stare, her hands on either side of her helmet, unable to finish the act of taking it off. How could she not have known? She had seen him in action, she knew how well he aimed, how he could take out anyone. But still she found herself speechless, momentarily stunned to see him sitting in front of her, alive and well.

“Shepard,” he greeted. He was staring at her as if he couldn’t believe she was standing in front of him. His harmonics hummed around the name as they had before, but there was something deeper there, a tone that hinted at how tired he must be, at what shock must be rattling around in his brain at the sight of her.

Determined to help him realize that he was not, in fact, hallucinating, she finished taking her helmet off and held it loosely in one hand. His eyes searched her face for a few moments, roaming over her still healing scars, an odd look in his eyes. 

“I thought you were dead.”

“Garrus!” she cried, her voice cracking a little on the name. Of all the friendly faces she had been hoping to see, his had been at the top of the list. But she had never dreamed she would, especially not like this. “Garrus, what are you doing here?”

“Just keeping my skills sharp, a little target practice.” He still had that look in his eyes, but his face relaxed into a familiar ghost of a smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer.

“I’ve been better. Still, it’s good to see a friendly face.” 

_You and me both_ , she thought. 

He sighed. “Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own.”

“What are you even doing out here on Omega? I thought you returned to the Citadel.”

“I did, for a time. But when I got fed up with all of the bureaucratic bullshit I came out here. Thought maybe I could do some good, bend the rules a little. I learned that from an old friend.”

Shepard returned his smirk. “How did you manage to piss off every major merc group in the Terminus Systems?”

“It wasn’t easy.” His humor was emphasized by a wheeze of his sub harmonics, and Shepard chuckled. “I really had to work at it. And if they teamed up to take me out, they must really hate me.”

“And uh…Archangel?” Shepard teased.

Garrus cleared his throat. “Just a nickname the locals came up with, because of all of my, ah, good deeds.” He shook his head a little. “But please, to you, just uh — just call me Garrus.”

Shepard continued smiling. He seemed embarrassed, avoiding her gaze slightly, but she was still just so happy to see him she didn’t mind. 

Miranda clucked her tongue behind her, a tapping of a foot accompanying the reminder to get moving.

“So what’s our plan? We came to get you out of here,” Shepard said, clearing her throat and adjusting a latch absently on the helmet in her hand. They could catch up later.

For a moment he looked at her, that odd look back in his eyes. Then he stared down at his feet. “Well, now that I have some backup, we can probably make it out more easily.” 

He got off the crates and went back to his former vantage point. Shepard walked over to join him and look out over the bridge beneath them. He glanced sideways at her, and she could have sworn his hand twitched near her briefly. Instead he leaned down to pick his rifle back up to check its scope. “Fight our way out?”

Shepard smiled. “I like it.”

Four of them did make it easier against the next waves coming across the bridge. The sabotage of the mech took out one wave entirely on its own, allowing them a few moments to recuperate and reload.

Shepard felt good for the first time since having woken up from the dead. Fighting beside Garrus again felt natural, and she finally felt like she was with someone who had her back as much as she had his. The flow of battle took on a pattern and rhythm that was incredibly familiar to her, and she noticed that Garrus seemed reinvigorated by it.

“I think that was the last of them,” Miranda called out, looking out over the bloodied bridge.

“Good, now let’s get you out of here.” Shepard stood and checked her heat sink, in case they faced more resistance on the way out.

“Finally. I can’t wait to get off this station,” Jacob muttered, stretching with a sigh.

Garrus stood, looking around with concern etched on his Turian features. He hadn’t put his helmet back on. “Something’s not right,” he muttered. 

Shepard heard it too, a low rumble sounding as though it was approaching faster every minute.

“The gun ship!” 

It was all she managed to get out before all hell broke loose. The four of them jumped behind cover as the ship’s machine guns let loose into their hiding place. Garrus tried to pop out of hiding, intending to take out the Blue Suns leader sitting in the pilot seat. 

The gun ship fired a missile that struck Garrus, and he flipped to the ground, unmoving. 

“Garrus!” Shepard screamed, but she couldn’t even hear herself over the continual assault of the guns.

Chaos reigned, only able to focus on finding a weak spot in the gunship so she could take it down.

_He’ll be okay. He’s fine, he’s made of tough shit._

With one final shockwave of her biotics, she managed to slam the ship into the wall behind it, and Miranda and Jacob took the opportunity to make quick work of Tarak.

Shepard was at Garrus’ side the moment the battle was over, and rolled him to his back. One side of his face was badly mangled, covered in deep blue blood; but she could tell he was breathing. Just barely. She cracked open a medi-gel dispenser with her teeth and applied some hastily to the worst spot. 

“You’ll be okay, stay with me, Garrus, you’re fine, you’re fine,” she kept muttering under her breath. If only for her benefit, since she doubted he could hear her. 

Having stopped some of the worst bleeding, she holstered her gun and pulled one of his arms around her shoulders. Jacob rushed forward to grab the other and together they hoisted Garrus up between them. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”


	2. Hot & Cold

Shepard had never felt more desperately in need of a shower as she did now. 

Unable to do anything but let Dr. Chakwas tend to Garrus' injuries, Shepard had eagerly returned to Omega for the Salarian scientist. Anything to channel her focus and distract her from her most trusted friend's blood on her armor.

It had meant traveling through the slums of the station, where a plague was running rampant and mercenary groups were taking advantage to loot and claim the area. The possible origins of the plague had been an interesting turn, but after the last two missions, Shepard just wanted a hot shower and her bed. And to get out of her fucking dirty armor.

She split off from where Miranda and Mordin were discussing where he could begin his research and headed straight for the elevator. The ride up to her cabin was short, and she began peeling her armor off as soon as she exited. Carelessly throwing its heavy pieces on the floor of her cabin she stumbled into the bathroom, where she turned the shower as hot as she could get it. 

For half an hour she just stood under the water, steam filling the small bathroom until it was her own personal sauna. Her muscles ached, still not used to being _used_ after two years on a table, and she finally let her mind relax and wander.

In the few quiet moments like this that she’d had the last few days, she tried to remember the time she had lost. She found only brief fragments of moments when she woke up, delirious and near panicking at the strangeness of being conscious once more. Everything else was blackness, empty nothingness in her mind from the time she suffocated in space to the moment Miranda woke her up over the comm system.

Shepard shuddered suddenly, even though the water was still scalding her skin. The memory of her death still felt fresh, even though it had been years, in reality.

To her, though, it felt only yesterday.

She clutched her throat and took deep breaths, reminding herself that she _could_ breathe. After several deep inhales, she felt the panic subsiding. 

_I need a drink._

Turning her shower off at last, she buffed her flushed skin with a towel so she could get dressed. Throwing on some N7 sweats and a white tank top, she put her wet, dark red hair in a small ponytail and left her cabin for the mess hall. 

As she rode the elevator down she realized she could stop by and check on Garrus. Hopefully he was awake by now.

The doors opened and she was surprised to see the tall figure standing in front of her. She flicked her gaze over him, rapidly assessing his status.

“Garrus!" She offered a tentative smile, though it quickly turned into a frown at the way his mandibles flinched. "What are you doing out of the med bay? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

He stepped back to let her join him in the hall. The right side of his face not covered by a cloth patch was badly scarred, though it looked as if no functional damage had been done. Garrus gingerly reached a hand up to it.

“I’ve been in the med bay for the last ten hours resting – I think I’ve had enough, Shepard. I was coming to see you, actually." Lowering his hand he turned the right side of his face toward her. “Dr. Chakwas wouldn’t give me a mirror, so I have no idea…How bad is it, really?”

Shepard looked him over for a moment and then sighed. “It’s definitely going to scar.”

Garrus laughed mildly. “Well, some women go crazy for men with scars. Then again those women are mostly Krogan.”

Shepard joined him in his laughter, until he flinched again.

"Ah, maybe I shouldn't laugh." He let out a deep sigh, a soft groan of his sub harmonics evidencing pain.

Still, though, watching him carefully flex his jaw was comforting. He was all right, and better yet, he was back on the Normandy. It felt right.

"I was going to have a drink, care to join?” she asked. 

He nodded his agreement and they made their way to the port observation deck, which Cerberus had upgraded to include a bar. Garrus looked out the window while Shepard poured the drinks; whiskey neat for her, and the Turian equivalent for him. She moved to take her place beside him as she handed over his glass. For a long time, they stood staring out the window and sipping their drinks. The silence was comforting, just the presence of someone who knew and trusted her relieving her of some of the anxiety that had caused her to seek out a drink.

Finally, Garrus turned to look at her. “I’m glad you’re back, Shepard, I really am,” he began. She glanced sidelong at him and smiled. “But Cerberus, Shepard? Don’t you remember what they were doing two years ago? The experiments we stopped, the people they killed?”

Shepard nodded. “I do. And I’m not working _for_ Cerberus, Garrus." 

She turned to face him completely. He needed to hear this, needed to understand. He was the only one who truly would. “But I am working with them, using them and their resources to get to the bottom of the Collector attacks, trying to find what they want with human colonies and whether or not they’re tied to the Reapers.” Her brow furrowed and she studied her nearly empty glass. “It’s not so bad to take advantage of a willing enemy to achieve a worthy goal, is it? Cerberus is offering us unlimited resources to get at this problem, to track the Reapers…I need to do this, and I need to have people that I trust at my back, keeping me sane. People like you.”

Garrus stared at her for a moment, and then nodded. “You’re right, Shepard, of course. If they want to throw resources at you to stop the Reapers, why not work with them?” He contemplated his empty glass. “And you know me — I’ll always have your back.”

“Thank you, Garrus,” she said softly.

“Now, it seems like we both have a drinking problem. Let me get us another and you can tell me all about coming back from the dead, and I can tell you about Archangel.” He took her glass and walked over to the bar. 

She chuckled as she sat down on the sofa and curled her legs under her. “I think your story will be more interesting than mine, Garrus,” she stated. “Mine mostly involves sleeping on a table in a Cerberus lab for two years.”

“You don’t remember anything?” He brought their replenished glasses back and handed hers over. Taking his seat on the sofa, he casually rested his arm on the cushions behind her shoulders. The thought of moving away from him didn’t even cross her mind, and instead she leaned back until her side rested close to his armored chest. His calming presence and soothing voice made her feel like maybe she could talk about it the way they used to talk about things.

“I remember…dying,” she began, but then faltered. 

Her throat tightened and she raised a slim hand to her neck. She brought her glass to her lips and drank deeply. Dropping her hand from her throat, she shook her head. The moment passed quickly, but she looked up to see Garrus watching her intensely, his face much closer to hers than she remembered. 

Suddenly she felt warm, and wondered if the whiskey was going to her head faster than she thought. “It’s Joker’s fault, really,” she jested, trying to gloss over her reaction as she avoided his gaze. “He wanted to go down with his ship.”

Garrus laughed but it almost sounded more like a growl. “Remind me to talk to him about that next time I go up to the cockpit,” he drawled, swirling his drink lazily in his hand.

“I kind of need him to fly my ship, so I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” she said through her laughter. “But, after that little mishap, I don’t remember anything really. There’s one or two moments where I think I came to. I remember Miranda looking down at me, talking over me. Everything else is just…nothing. It’s blackness. A huge gap in my memory. It was like a long, dreamless sleep. If it weren’t for everyone telling me it’s been two years, I’d swear it had only been a few days or weeks. I was dying and then — then I woke up to Miranda telling me to get a gun. That I had to defend myself.”

“Defend yourself?”

“Yeah, someone turned traitor. Sold us out and the base was under attack. It was a rude awakening.” Shepard took a sip and stared out the window. 

Garrus was still looking at her, sitting so near she could feel his cold armor against her bare arm. She still felt that pleasant warmth she attributed to the whiskey, and yet a shiver passed down her spine and she felt her skin prickling with goose bumps. 

What the hell was happening? She would have attributed it to talking about her death, and yet she didn’t feel upset anymore. Instead, she felt uncharacteristically content.

“Are you cold, Shepard?” Garrus asked.

“No, just remembering, I suppose,” she lied.

He finally raised his head from staring at her to look out the window and took a sip of his drink. “For what it’s worth, Shepard, I’m sorry.”

She glanced at him, thoroughly puzzled. “Sorry for what, Garrus?”

“I keep feeling like I should have been there, I should have been on the Normandy with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have died. Maybe —”

“Garrus, no, stop. If you had been there you could have died, and I,” she took a deep breath, she felt her throat tighten, “I can’t even bear to think about that. You’re my closest friend. Please don’t beat yourself up about it. Besides — I’m back, now.”

He looked down at her and she met his piercing blue eyes. She felt like shivering again, and the smallest dawning of understanding began in the back of her mind. 

She still had goose bumps.

She was the first to break their gaze and hastily took a drink to steady her suddenly fraught nerves. Clearing her throat she changed the subject. “Now, since I’m back, tell me about Archangel. How did you end up on Omega?”

“I tried going back to C-Sec, but I hardly lasted two months before I got sick of the bureaucratic red tape keeping me from actually doing anything at all. I could barely sneeze without having to fill out three forms exploring why and asking permission for my next sneeze.” He shook his head. At Shepard's laugh he glared.

“I’ve seen you sneeze, Vakarian. I know for a fact they probably had good reason for those forms,” she teased.

He chuckled, a familiar wheeze of sub harmonics that reminded her of nights spent chatting in the cargo bay. “Oh ha ha, Shepard. You’ve gotten funnier since you were brought back to life,” he quipped in return. “But, well, with you I had experienced a life without red tape. I was frustrated. And then…” He trailed off and stared out the window, suddenly distant.

She watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she frowned. “And then what?”

“Well, I got the news that you had died.” He hung his head. 

She stared at him in mild disbelief. Had her death had that much of an impact on him? 

_No wonder he looked at me so strangely on Omega._

After a long silence he continued, “And, well, I figured life was short, why spend it filling out bullshit forms? So I headed out to Omega, hoping to do some good outside the lines, without the red tape.”

“And did you?”

“For a time, yes. I found a small group of people, good people, who had been fucked over by the groups on Omega for too long and wanted to do something about it. We interrupted their operations, stole shipments, incapacitated them before disappearing without a trace. We were incredibly effective, for a while.” He fell silent again, contemplating his empty glass. Shepard stood up and took it from his hand, walking back to the bar. 

Garrus sat staring out the window, lost in thought. When Shepard returned to the sofa with refills, she accidentally misjudged where she was going to sit and sat too close to him, their sides now overlapping. 

She almost expected him to say something, and yet when she tried to scoot to the side, the arm that he had draped over the sofa behind her tightened ever so slightly, hinting that he wanted her to stay. She passed him his drink and tried to settle back comfortably against his armor. Nervously she took a drink, trying to quash any obvious signs of the suspicions she was beginning to have about herself. 

The goose bumps had returned.

“So, how did you end up with all three merc gangs coming at you across that bridge?” It was a small relief that her voice came out steady in the weighty silence between them.

“I was betrayed,” he replied quietly. “By the time I realized it, it was too late. I lost my whole crew. And then…well, I was attacked, and did my best to hold them off.”

“I’m sorry, Garrus,” Shepard whispered. Instinctively she reached a hand over to his, and she clumsily squeezed it around his glass. 

It took her a moment to realize what she’d done, because the action had felt so natural. She quickly pulled her hand away, took a large gulp of whiskey, and choked when it went down the wrong pipe. Garrus’ eye plates were raised just a tad, his gaze directed at his hand. Shepard continued to cough, looking away from him.

He seemed almost as stunned as she was, but his face was difficult to read beyond the tiny hint of surprise she could make out. Despite their camaraderie, they had never been this close to one another. Unless one counted the heat of battle, which Shepard never did. Nights alone in the cargo bay, chatting while they cleaned and modded weapons, and she'd never been near enough to notice that this close up, his eyes were a mix of silver and sapphire.

Shepard was starting to feel flushed and even a little tipsy. Her mind raced and she reached the decision that maybe she should go, before she said or did something to ruin their friendship and happy reunion.

Draining the rest of her glass in one large gulp, she stood and stretched. “I had a really long day, I should probably head up,” she muttered.

“Yeah, I really should get over to the battery. I want to take a look at the guns, make sure they’re still up to par now that Cerberus is involved.” He stood as well, towering over her as he moved beside her. 

She realized just how large he was compared to her, and for a moment all she could do was stare up at him. She gave herself a little shake and stepped away, setting her glass on the bar.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she told him, and hurried out of the room to the elevator.

* * *

Back in her cabin, she sat in front of her private terminal, staring at a blank extranet search page as she tried to decide if she dared look up what she wanted. The whiskey was telling her it was a good idea, but her sore muscles were telling her to just have a glass of water and go to bed.

She tapped her fingers on the desk, debating internally. The curiosity was almost too much for her, but her need for sleep was more pressing.

 _I’ll fall down that rabbit hole some other time._

She stood and walked over to her bed, stripping off her sweats before she pulled back the sheets and climbed in. Once inside the cocoon of soft fabric, she lay letting herself think over the evening. The cool feeling of her sheets reminded her of his armor against her skin, and again she found herself wondering what Turians looked like under all of their armor.

She thought for a moment that she should find it odd to be so attracted to an alien, yet she realized that it was more about Garrus himself than it was about anything else. She had always sought him out on the Normandy 1 during their hunt for Saren, and had enjoyed their talks more than any she had with the rest of the crew. They had spent so many nights swapping stories, laughter coming naturally to them during their time together. Kaidan’s persistent pursuit and the fact that they were entirely different species must have just distracted her from the true and suddenly obvious nature of her feelings before.

_Kaidan…_

She thought about that night before Ilos, when Kaidan had come to her room and taken her in his arms. The idea that she would probably die the next day had spurred her to accept his tender caresses, and they had shared a sweet, rather desperate night together. Shepard had had no illusions, but she worried that Kaidan had intended for it to be more than one night. Her death had complicated the issue and she had never had a chance to discuss it with him.

Her thoughts shifted back to Garrus, and she tried to picture what would have happened had he come to her room instead. The thought intrigued her, and she felt flushed and warm again. Dimly she realized how long it had actually been since that night before Ilos, and a pleasant tingle of anticipation began between her legs.

She leisurely stroked her way down her body until she found the waistband of her underwear and slipped her hand under it. Her fingers explored inside her folds, and she was surprised to find herself already incredibly wet. 

_It’s that damn voice of his_ , she thought, as she remembered how closely he had been sitting to her, the way he had stared into her eyes. She slowly worked her way to her clit, and she teased herself by dragging a finger in languid circles before touching it directly. Her heart raced as she remembered how she had shivered and broken out in goose bumps, the way his arm had rested so casually and yet so intimately behind her on the sofa.

She wondered what he might have done if she had straddled him on the sofa, if she had sorted these feelings out and been daring enough to try. Would he have accepted her? 

A picture grew in her mind of him dragging her tank top off of her, his talons raking down her naked back as his tongue teased over her breasts. She tried to imagine him naked, wondering what he might look like, hard and ready for her to ride. Asari and a few other humans had talked about Turians they had been with, at least enough to give her an idea that it could work, even though she’d never seen one personally. Or even thought about it before.

She began to stroke herself faster, putting more pressure on her clit until a shudder of pleasure surged through her limbs. The thought of him inside her, how he would look above her, thrusting wildly into her as she cried out for more made her moan. When the image pushed her closer to the edge she slowed, not ready for release yet so that she could continue to imagine him fucking her. To think about what it would have been like if he had flipped her on her back on the sofa and fucked her right then and there. His talons would bite into her hips as he did so, his heavy panting punctuated by his wonderful voice and those sub harmonics that gave her goose bumps. 

Her fingers sped up again on her clit, and then she teased herself by stopping her attention there to slide her fingers into herself. She was so wet now she had no issue inserting a few fingers into herself, stroking slowly and thinking about Garrus’ girth inside of her, filling her completely as he was sure to do.

That night before Ilos would have been so different with him, and tonight’s reunion would have taken place in this bed instead of the observation deck. Pulling her fingers out she rubbed her wetness onto her clit, massaging herself again in a steady rhythm. A lust-filled reunion between the two of them would have been better, unable to make it in the door without tearing each other’s clothes off and him pinning her against the fish tank. They wouldn’t make it to the bed, instead he would pick her legs up and wrap them around himself, pushing hard and fast into her as she begged him to — 

She came, so hard that she actually cried out as she writhed on the bed. Her other hand clenched the sheets and she bucked her hips as though Garrus were above her, responding to imagined thrusts she wished desperately to be real. It had been over two years and the intensity of her orgasm surprised her; it continued until she shook and gasped, still imagining what he would feel like inside of her. 

When she finished she lay unmoving, her hand still shoved down the front of her underwear. After several long minutes, she sighed and removed her hand, rolling onto her side. Tonight she felt confident that she would sleep better than she had since waking up in the Cerberus labs. 

But she also realized that tomorrow she would have to face Garrus and figure out what to do about all of these revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This has been a fun project so far, and I'm so happy to see there's still a place for this fic. The comments and kudos mean a lot to me. Mwuah!
> 
> Xx,  
> Lara


	3. Horizon

Shepard awoke with her first alarm, more rested than she had been in longer than she could remember. She felt no ill effects from the whiskey, but instead felt ready to take on whatever the day threw at her. 

Which, given everything going on, could be literally anything.

Once out of bed she stretched for a few minutes before walking to her footlocker to grab some clothes, only to pause when she saw the logo emblazoned on every item within. It was bad enough to see the orange _zero_ or whatever the hell it was supposed to be all over the ship and on the crew’s uniforms, but seeing it on her own gear felt like another twist of the knife. 

Remembering she didn’t have anything besides her armor or the one pair of N7 sweats and tank top she had managed to find, she heaved a sigh and pulled a casual uniform from the footlocker.

“Hey EDI,” she called out to nothing in particular, but a terminal by her door lit up.

“Yes, Shepard?” the AI greeted.

“Remind me the next time we go to the Citadel to buy some new clothes,” she requested, tugging at the unfortunately soft and comfortable Cerberus merch.

“Of course, Shepard. Is something the matter? I can try to requisition anything you need before then,” EDI offered.

“No, it’s fine. Just...missing a few things.” She still didn’t trust that the AI wasn’t reporting back to the Illusive Man about everything, no matter how inconsequential. The idea of her displeasure with the Cerberus gear blowing up in her face was less than appealing, considering it wasn’t really important.

Just deeply irritating.

“Yes, Shepard. Is there anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

The AI terminal went dark once more, and Shepard stood for a moment gathering her thoughts. If she focused on the reasons for being here, she found it was bearable. Stretching her sore shoulders again as she left her cabin, she took the solitary elevator ride down to the mess.

As she grabbed a meal bar from the cupboards in Gardner’s small kitchen, she contemplated checking out the battery to see if Garrus was there. Before she got a chance to follow through on the impulse, though, she heard EDI call out for her on the comms.

“Yes, EDI?” she replied, tearing open the meal bar’s packaging with her teeth while simultaneously pouring herself a cup of coffee from a small pot.

At the sight of the orange _zero or person or whatever the fuck it was_ on the black mug she scrunched her nose and spat out the piece of wrapper in her mouth.

“The Illusive Man is on the line for you in the comm room. He said it was urgent.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.” Shepard sighed and took a giant bite of her lackluster breakfast as she walked back to the elevator, coffee in hand.

The briefing table descended into the floor as she entered the room and the comm. platform rose, waiting for her to step onto it. Taking a gulp of coffee she did so, waiting until the Illusive Man appeared before her a moment later, smoking his cigarette as usual.

“Shepard,” he began, “We’ve got our strongest lead yet. A colony on Horizon just went dark.”

“The Collectors?” Shepard sipped her coffee again, thinking hard. An actual chance to stop them or see them in the act — she certainly hadn’t expected that.

“We believe so. Go to Horizon with your team, see what you can find, what you can stop.” The Illusive Man took a drag on his cigarette. “Has Mordin had any luck with countering the Collectors’ toxin yet?”

Shepard smiled wryly. “Let’s hope so.”

“Put some pressure on him. I need you to get to Horizon as soon as possible. Oh, and Shepard?”

She gave a noncommittal hum, raising an eyebrow as she waited for the rest.

“Alliance has a man stationed there. An old friend. Staff Commander Alenko.”

“Kaidan?” she blurted out, but immediately arranged her face into a stoic mask. Shepard stared at the holographic figure standing before her, resolutely holding his gaze over her mug as he took another drag of his cigarette. She finished her drink casually and then gave a puzzled frown. “The Alliance sent someone out there?”

“Maybe they’re finally paying attention. Either way, just wanted to let you know.” He took another long drag of his cigarette, the odd glow of his eyes still fixed on hers.

Again she merely took a sip, her face neutral, and then nodded. “Anything else?”

“No. I look forward to hearing what you find. Illusive Man out.”

The holograph faded and Shepard quickly descended the platform and exited the room as the briefing table returned to normal. She half-jogged to the tech lab, calling out to EDI to set a course for Horizon as she did. 

Mordin had set himself up quickly and was hard at work, bent over a table covered in test tubes and beakers.

“Dr. Solus, any progress on that antidote?”

“Just Mordin, please, Commander. So far success. Seems more tailored to human physiology, similar to plague’s tailoring to other species. Blood sample would help, have yet to ask anyone,” he rattled off as he worked.

Shepard held her arm out to him, pushing her sleeve back on her upper arm. “Here’s your blood sample."

His eyes lit up and he wiped her arm with disinfectant. He drew the blood so fast she hardly had time to register that it was happening before it was over and a bandage with medi-gel was slapped over the spot.

“Yes, yes, perfect, should be final key. Will have solution ready in one, two hours. Want to look at armor as well, if you don’t mind. Have theory on cloaking device,” he looked up at her briefly. “Then just need field test to determine success.”

“Wait, you’re saying we won’t know if it’s fully effective until we’re out there in the field?”

“Impossible to be one hundred percent certain unless tested in actual circumstances. Must be honest. Unable to assure you of effectiveness without field test. Unethical not to tell Commander of risks.”

Shepard sighed. “Well, you’ll have your field test soon enough. We’ll be at Horizon in two hours. I need a solution by then.”

Mordin nodded, still bent over his work. Shepard picked her coffee up from the table and headed next to Miranda’s office to tell her about the mission. She wanted to keep it quick, and so she barely poked her head in the door to tell her their destination and ETA. 

Then she veered off the mess hall and followed the catwalk to the main battery. Garrus needed to know. Besides, she found herself wanting to see him, more than she was ready to admit. 

When the battery door opened she saw Garrus standing at the gun console, his omni-tool held up so that he could study it intently. 

“Garrus? Have a minute?” Shepard asked, walking to stand just behind him. She could see that he was searching something on the extranet, but couldn’t make out exactly what it was. She thought she saw what might have been an image of pale skin, but couldn’t be sure.

“Shepard!” He quickly closed his omni-tool and turned to face her. “I’ve just been trying to get these guns calibrated, what’s up?”

She noticed that he seemed a little flustered, but decided not to comment on it. “We have a mission. A human colony on Horizon just went dark. The Illusive Man thinks it’s being hit by the Collectors.”

Garrus folded his arms and leaned against the console. “So an actual chance to stop them in the act?”

“That was my thought exactly. This is our chance to find out what’s going on and why they’re targeting whole colonies like this.” Shepard paused and drank from her mug. She wanted to make her next request sound professional and friendly, just like old times. But her wild imaginings of him ravishing her floated across her mind and she had to take a moment to collect herself. 

“I’d like you to be a part of the ground team with me, if you're up to the task. How’s your face feeling?”

“Much better, I think I’m fit for duty if the occasion calls for it. And I’d say it does — I want to be down there with you and see it for myself. When do we depart?” He seemed eager, a hint of his usual grin on his face, which she reflexively returned.

“We’re headed there now, ETA is about two hours.”

“Great, just enough time to finish my current calibrations. I’ll meet you in the armory.” With that Garrus turned around and began his work on the console. She noticed he didn’t pull his omni-tool back up immediately, but she was fairly certain she heard him open it as the battery doors closed behind her.

Two hours later Shepard stood in the armory, clad in freshly cleaned armor. She was buffing the last of some Omega grime and blood off of her helmet when the door opened to let Garrus and Miranda enter. 

“So, Shepard, I’ve gotten more information about the colony on Horizon from the Illusive Man,” Miranda informed her. “It appears one of your former Alliance colleagues is stationed there currently. A Staff Commander Alenko?”

Shepard’s hand stopped mid-wipe on her helmet, too many thoughts swirling through her mind. The idea of seeing Kaidan again didn’t make her happy; instead she felt a dull dread and anxiety. She managed a perfunctory nod as she continued wiping her helmet and avoided Garrus’ eyes. He was watching her, she could tell.

“It seems the Alliance is trying to determine what is happening to their missing colonists, finally,” Miranda mused sardonically while checking her guns. “Could he be useful to us?”

“He won’t be happy to see us,” Shepard muttered. Looking to Garrus at last she saw him staring at her quizzically. “Cerberus, that is,” she added. 

Garrus nodded in quiet agreement. Shepard finished with her helmet and then double checked her guns, hoping that bit of conversation was over.

She didn’t want to think about it. 

“Commander? We’ll be landing shortly,” Joker’s voice rang out over the comm. 

The doors to the armory opened once more and Mordin entered the room, carrying several armor mods.

“Commander, solution is ready for first field test. Ninety-nine-point-one percent confident in success rate. Should work to cloak and make targets invisible to seeker swarms. No target, no stinging. Thank you for tissue samples and allowing me to look at armor.” Mordin took turns handing them all the mods so they could fit them into their suits. 

“Good luck out there. Might need it.” And with that Mordin shuffled out of the armory. Shepard and the other two put their helmets on and drew their guns.

“Jacob not joining us?” Garrus asked.

“He and Mordin are staying behind in case the seeker cloaking doesn’t work,” Miranda replied easily. 

Shepard sighed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

* * *

The colony was eerily silent, so that Shepard kept looking over her shoulder to double check that the other two were still behind her. They passed several buildings that were entirely empty, and as they started passing through them they found no signs of struggle, just the hints of former occupation. Meals abandoned, chairs pushed back, scattered papers.

“They’ve already taken some of them,” Garrus said, voice softer than normal as if the silence made him feel the need to whisper. “It looks like everyone just — got up and left during lunch.”

Shepard agreed silently before continuing to lead the way. She exited into what looked like a courtyard, surrounded by more deserted buildings. 

_Please tell me we aren’t too late._

And then she heard it — the unnatural wail that had accompanied every Geth attack. 

“Husks!” Shepard yelled in warning, and opened fire as she saw glowing figures running down the hill that rose through the colony. 

She and Miranda took well-timed turns hurling biotics at groups of the grotesque enemies while Garrus took his place behind cover and let loose with perfectly aimed shots from his beloved rifle. In the midst of battle she could hear him marking kills, celebrating when he had taken out another. Just as they had in days past while they hunted Saren and the Geth. Miranda, on the other hand, only called out tactics, grunting when she lobbed biotic energy at groups of husks.

Shepard threw a husk near her back with a powerful melee of biotics, and then stopped to look around. The courtyard was silent again. Garrus and Miranda came out of cover and moved to join her, looking over the gore for a moment. 

“The Geth made husks out of humans using spikes, but I haven’t seen any around yet,” Garrus commented as he checked his rifle’s scope. 

“The Reapers gave the Geth that technology…the Collectors must have brought these with them,” Shepard mused. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, understanding the weight of the revelation. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Shepard broke the silence. 

After taking a deep breath she steadied her gun before her, ready to lead the way up the hill the husks had charged down. Slowly she made her way toward the rest of the colony buildings, trying to push through the horrible uncertainty of what they may find.

This portion of the settlement was just as silent — but it was populated. 

Shepard halted and lowered her gun in disbelief as she stared at colonists scattered between the buildings, positioned as if running and hiding. Yet all of them were frozen in place, decorating the empty space like bizarre statues. 

Hesitantly she approached the nearest colonist, and saw the woman’s eyes wide open in fear, arms covering her head from a now-absent enemy.

“Shit,” Garrus whispered behind her.

“It’s like some sort of stasis field,” Miranda commented, standing close to another colonist and staring into his eyes. “I think they’re aware of what’s going on around them.”

“But unable to fight back or run.” Shepard shuddered. The idea of being trapped like that disturbed her, but she cleared her throat and looked around. 

_Refocus._

“We need to stop this. Save who we can.”

At her words movement caught the corner of her eye as several Collectors came out of a building ahead of them. 

“Get down!” Miranda shouted, and all three of them crouched behind the nearest cover. 

Shepard was charging her biotics when she heard it; an uncanny voice reverberated through the silence, claiming control of one of the Collectors facing them. Peering around the low wall she hid behind, she sought out the target and for a moment stared in confused horror. The hulking shape of a Collector was lifted into the air, infused with glowing energy and crying out with ethereal rage.

“I am Harbinger!”

Shepard’s eyes grew wide when she noticed the hazy barrier surrounding the Collector as it touched back down on the ground, eyes glowing purple as it made its way forward. Shepard rechanneled her biotic energy, focused on creating her own barrier. The new addition to the fight was more than a touch concerning.

“What on earth is that?” Miranda shouted.

“Target practice!” Garrus replied as he aimed a shot at one of the other Collectors, taking it out easily. 

Shepard aimed at Harbinger’s head, but her bullet made contact with the barrier and fell to the ground. “Damn it!” she cried, then directed a bolt of biotic energy in the same direction. Harbinger stumbled back, finally hit by something she threw his way. 

Miranda followed her example and managed to knock Harbinger over, and Shepard noticed his barrier was no longer shimmering around him. 

“Now! Hit him now!” she directed the others. 

Miranda aimed another round of biotics and Garrus turned his gun on the crumpled form of Harbinger. The combination of the two flung Harbinger into the air before he crashed several feet behind where he had previously sprawled.

“No matter — I will take control of this unit,” the voice of Harbinger rang out again as another Collector was raised in the air.

“Shit!” Garrus exclaimed before aiming once more at Harbinger’s pawn. “Let’s try this one more time!” 

The three of them used the same strategy, hoping to take Harbinger out quickly before he could make it closer to them. As soon as he hit the ground, lifeless, Shepard and her crew quickly turned their attention to the remaining Collectors, hoping to incapacitate them before another was possessed by Harbinger.

Shepard watched the last Collector collapse, a hole in his head from Garrus’ concussive shot. She took a moment to relax against the wall, taking deep breaths to collect herself. 

_What the fuck is going on?_

“Shepard, are you all right?” Garrus called, and she finally pushed herself into a standing position.

“I’m fine, yeah. Let’s keep going.” She walked brusquely by the other two, careful not to show the fear and doubt on her face or in her voice. 

A leader couldn’t show weakness.

“ _Shepard, I have determined that the colony has been equipped with a missile defense system, but it is currently offline,”_ EDI’s voice rang in her ear.

“Where are they EDI? Could we get them back online?”

“ _It should be possible, yes. Continue up the hill to the left, the missiles will be easily spotted.”_

“This way.” Shepard pointed to her left, and the other two fanned out behind her as they made their way to the nav point EDI pinged on Shepard’s omni-tool.

The console for the missiles was positioned in the middle of several buildings. Shepard cautiously approached, expecting an ambush at any moment. 

“EDI, I’m at the console, about to start bypassing the system.” She opened her omni-tool and began connecting EDI’s systems to the missiles as she glanced around.

“ _Thank you, Shepard. Please stay nearby, it will take me several minutes to accomplish my task.”_

“Ok, get into cover. We need to make sure these missiles get back online and there’s sure to be some pushback.” Shepard moved to the right of the console and ducked behind some nearby crates. 

Garrus and Miranda took their places on either side of the small platform, prepared to flank any enemies that came at them.

Several moments of silence passed before Shepard again heard the telltale sign of husks charging from behind the buildings. “Incoming,” she warned, propping her gun on top of the crate in front of her. 

Taking careful aim, she managed to take out three husks in rapid succession, loud bursts of gunfire echoing from either side as Garrus and Miranda took a few out as well. Behind the charging husks several Collectors slowly stalked forward, and Shepard again saw one of them lifted in the air as Harbinger took over. 

“Harbinger!” she called out, and the three of them used their former strategy to quickly dispatch him.

After two waves of husks, a wraithlike wail rent the air. Shepard looked up to see a large flying Collector, an amalgam of cybernetics and flesh, bug-like and terrifying. The ground shook as it landed, much closer than she would have liked. 

“What the hell is that?” Garrus called from her left.

“Target practice! Take it out!” Miranda shouted in response, and hurled some biotics in its direction. They bounced off, barely leaving a mark on its shiny, leathery exterior. “Damn! It’s armored!”

“I’ve got this!” Garrus yelled, and he pulled one of his custom mods off his belt and attached it to his rifle. He took careful aim and let loose an incredible shot that echoed through the air even in the midst of the deafening battle. The shot tore through the creature’s armor and it stumbled back from the impact.

“Nice one!” Shepard roared approvingly, and then tried hurling a warp orb in the direction of the beast. It ripped through its wing and the large Collector screamed in agony. “Keep it up!”

Alternating Garrus’ armor-piercing rounds and biotics from Miranda and Shepard, they were able to steadily wear the creature down until it collapsed before it could reach them. 

Momentarily distracted by their triumph, Shepard missed the group of husks behind them until they were upon her, pulling at her armor. She let out an involuntary cry, trying to elbow and grapple with the husk that clawed at her waist.

“Shepard!” Garrus yelled. He stood nearby, rifle raised before him, but he let out a growl of frustration. “Stop struggling, I’ve got this!”

One of the husks grasped her chest tightly — so tight it was becoming difficult to breathe. Panic washed over her and she found herself unable to fight against the husks’ vice-like hold on her. The overwhelming sensation of suffocating, of dying, clouded her mind until she couldn’t fight against the way her vision was blurring.

_She was struggling, the Normandy was burning beneath her and her suit was malfunctioning, the icy blackness of empty space engulfing her, her lungs searing in pain as she tried desperately to take a breath —_

_She couldn’t. This was it, here — alone._

A bright shockwave of violet blinded her, and the husks fell away from her as she stumbled back from the blast. Several shots rang out and the husks were motionless where they fell. 

Taking deep, rasping breaths, Shepard struggled with the clasps of her helmet, fumbling to unlatch it. She needed fresh air, she couldn’t breathe, her world spinning as the clasps finally gave and released. 

Smoke-filled air reached her at last, filling her lungs as she sank to her knees. She couldn’t stop coughing and spluttering as she tried to calm herself, trying to tell herself that if she could cough she was breathing. The logic took time to cut through the thick fog clouding her brain, but after a few deep inhalations she managed to blink, taking in the sight of reassuringly solid ground beneath her fingers.

She took a moment to dig her fingers into the ground, to watch as the dirt shifted around the metallic blue of her armor. The particles rolled over her knuckles and fell silently back to where they had been before she disturbed them, and she breathed deeply as she considered it.

_It’s solid, just dirt. It’s not..._

Finally able to see clearly again, Shepard looked above her to see Miranda standing nearby, her arms still poised and ready for action, biotic energy glowing around her hands as she surveyed the scene to make sure there were no more threats. Garrus ran over to where Shepard knelt on the ground and reached down a hand to help her up. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice emphasized with a sharp note of alarm in his sub harmonics. 

Shepard nodded jerkily, taking his hand and letting him hoist her to her feet. He gripped her shoulders to steady her as she wobbled on her legs, head lowered so that he could study her face more easily.

“I couldn’t breathe,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She shook her head, pressing her lips firmly together. 

_Get a hold of yourself._

She looked past Garrus and saw Miranda staring at her, and for the first time she saw doubt and apprehension on the other woman’s features. “Thank you,” Shepard said, looking at Miranda pointedly. 

Though she assumed Miranda saving her had more to do with her being a huge investment for Cerberus, she couldn’t help but wonder at the look of genuine anxiety on her companion’s face as she gave a curt nod. 

_Maybe she’s not as bad as she seems._

“ _Shepard, I have managed to activate the missile defense system,”_ EDI cut into the silence over the comms.

“Good work, EDI,” Shepard rasped out, hating how her voice still carried a slight waver. Swallowing hard she took a moment before continuing. “Now let’s take care of the Collector ship above the colony.”

“ _Right away.”_

Shepard took a step away from Garrus, finally confident that she could stand on her own. She met his gaze and gave a tiny smile, trying to reassure him that she was all right. He gave an affirmative jerk of his head and turned away, crossing to where he had dropped his rifle when he rushed to her side. Miranda awkwardly checked her guns, still yet to verbally acknowledge Shepard’s gratitude. 

The silence of the courtyard was interrupted by missiles launching at the large Collector ship looming ominously above the colony. As the missiles approached it began to pull away from the planet, but even at this distance it was still evident some of them had made contact. 

However, just as soon as they seemed to hit, the ship jumped into FTL and disappeared from view. 

“Damn it,” Shepard muttered.

“Well on the bright side, they didn’t get all of the colonists,” Garrus pointed out. 

The colonists around them were beginning to wake up, some falling as the paralysis of the stasis field wore off. Interrupted cries of terror gave way to sobs of relief, and then subdued joy as they began to greet each other and search for other survivors.

“Shepard?” a deep voice rang out in disbelief, and Shepard turned to see Kaidan walking hesitantly toward her.

“Kaidan,” she greeted, and took a few determined steps to meet him. 

He looked her over as though he couldn’t believe she was standing before him, though his eyes held far more betrayal than Garrus’ had upon first seeing her alive. Kaidan faltered for a moment longer, and then he reached out to take her in his arms. 

She acquiesced to his hug, relieved to see another friendly face — but concerned about what would happen when the hug broke.

“I — I thought you were dead.” Kaidan’s voice was barely audible as he pulled away from her. He stayed close, looking over her face once more now that he was able. He took in the healing scars on her cheeks and then stared intently into her eyes as if doing so could determine if it was actually her.

“It’s a long story,” Shepard gritted out. She wished he’d stop looking at her like a wounded puppy. “What are you doing on Horizon?”

“I was sent here to determine what was happening to our colonies in the Terminus Systems. The Alliance believes it to be Cerberus’ work.”

Behind her, Miranda scoffed. “Oh please, can you honestly believe that after what you just experienced? Why would Cerberus attack human colonies?”

Kaidan studied Miranda critically, and then noticed the Cerberus logo on her top. His brows furrowed and he turned a critical glare at Shepard. 

And then his eyes fell on the logo on her own armor.

“Shepard, are you — are you with Cerberus now?” The accusation was heavy in his tone, and she cringed, unable to fight the grimace that contorted her face.

“It’s complicated,” she began, unsure how to even begin explaining to him. She held his gaze for a moment, hoping to make him understand. “We’re tracking the Collectors’ attacks on the colonies, we think it’s the Reapers — ”

Kaidan took a few steps back from her, disgust and disbelief more pronounced in his demeanor. “Cerberus, Shepard? How could you? Don’t you remember their methods — don’t you remember what they were doing, what we fought so hard to stop? _Together_?”

“Kaidan — ”

“Who are you? Are you even still Commander Shepard?” He stared at her in continued suspicion. “Don’t you remember what we — you — stood for?”

Her jaw dropped and she felt her eyes sting at his words. 

_What else did you expect, though?_

She clenched her fists, trying to keep herself steady. “I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on! Entire colonies of humans are going missing, and all the Alliance thought to do was send one person to a colony to pretend to defend it!” Her voice was rising and she began to shake with fury as she swiped a hand across the space between them. “I’m actually trying to stop this, what are _you_ doing?”

Kaidan shook his head and looked away, but he spotted Garrus behind her. “Garrus, you too? You’re willing to work with _Cerberus_?”

“If it gets the job done and stops the Reapers, there’s a lot I’m willing to do,” Garrus replied smoothly, a deep rasp present in his harmonics. He sounded on the verge of anger as well, his voice lowered dangerously. There were few times Shepard had heard his voice sound like that — notably when talking about Saren or Dr. Saleon. “You should hear Shepard out, Kaidan.”

But the man in front of her looked back into her eyes with complete distrust and suspicion etched on his face. As if she was no better than a stranger, and at worst — an enemy.

She released her fists and tried to calm herself. “Kaidan, there’s something big going on. I’m trying to figure out what it is. Please, help me.”

A long moment passed as he stared at her, then he spoke slowly — deliberately, the way he did when firm in his beliefs. “No, Shepard. I’m sorry, but I know who I am and where my allegiances lie. I won’t leave the Alliance.” 

He stared at his feet before continuing, “I thought I meant something to you, I thought we had something real. I — I lo — no, no. But did we, really? Thinking you were dead tore me apart. Why didn’t you contact me? How can you just show up like this, like nothing happened? How could you put me through that?”

Shepard held his gaze when he raised his head again, unsure of how to respond. She had been right to worry that there had been an imbalance of feelings between them, and needed to face it. No matter how much she wished to avoid thinking about how she had been, before.

She cleared her throat and finally looked away. “Like I said, it’s complicated, Kaidan, and best not handled here in the middle of a colony that just lost half or more of its people.” Her tone was harsher than she meant, but she felt defensive under the onslaught of his accusations — especially the way they touched too close to the truth. “You don’t want to join me, that’s fine, but let me see what other information I can get from this situation. We share common goals even if we’re willing to use different means to achieve them.”

He snorted scornfully and turned away from her, shaking his head. “Fine, Shepard.” 

And with that he walked away from her toward a colonist to offer his assistance. Shepard stood still, trying to collect her thoughts and calm her emotions. She had known some of her former teammates would react negatively to her new associations. 

But that knowledge hadn’t made facing the reality any easier.

“Come on, let’s see what else we can find and then get back to the Normandy,” she grumbled. “I’ve had enough of this planet.”

* * *

Miranda glared as Shepard threw her helmet roughly on the armory bench, the metal clangs echoing awkwardly around the small space. 

They had acquired little new information after her fight with Kaidan, and Shepard felt frustrated beyond measure. 

Garrus lingered behind her, though Miranda stalked from the room without a word. He was waiting for Shepard to say something, she could tell. But instead of saying anything to reassure or open up to him, she continued to remove her weapons and armor in furious silence. 

He seemed to sense her inability to calmly discuss what had happened, and as she stripped off her armor he moved to stand beside her at the bench. Slowly and methodically, Garrus took his rifle apart to inspect before he began cleaning and adjusting it.

His even, unhurried movements and bulky, sturdy presence had a soothing effect on her. She began to take deep breaths as she checked her own weapons, having stripped down to her greaves and boots. The shirt she wore under her armor was damp with perspiration, and she wished she could take it off but wasn’t sure what effect that would have on her companion. 

Now wasn’t that moment, but she marveled at how she was feeling calmer already simply having him at her side. 

After a long moment, she finally spoke. “Is that what everyone is going to think of me?”

She bit her lip and rested her hands on the bench, hanging her head. It hadn’t quite been what she meant to say, but the words were out before she could stop them. 

Garrus hesitated with his scope still held up to his eye, taking a moment to consider her question. “You had to know it would ruffle more than a few feathers joining up with Cerberus,” he confided honestly. “But I would hope more of our team would see it as the pragmatism it is.”

She sighed, and he put his scope on the bench and turned to face her. She raised her head until her neck was all the way back; this close up he positively towered over her. 

“Shepard, you know Kaidan better than I do. You remember how — emotional — he could get,” Garrus paused, and she tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Was it jealousy? 

She shook the thought from her mind, doubting there was any chance of that.

“You think this was just, what, him being angry that I didn’t call?” Shepard denied vehemently. “What we had…” She trailed off, suddenly awkward. 

But Garrus was her friend, right? She could talk with him about this, she just needed to do it carefully so that she didn’t discourage him or give too much away. 

After a moment of careful consideration she shrugged. “It was two years ago, and he thought I was dead. Surely he moved on.”

Garrus gave a cynical laugh. “Shepard, I think you underestimate his feelings for you. They were pretty obvious to the rest of us on the Normandy. I also think you fail to see things from his perspective.” 

She frowned, and he leaned his hands on the bench as he mulled over his words carefully. 

“For him, it’s been two years, two years mourning your death. But from his perspective, now, those were two years you just didn’t contact him. You didn’t exactly tell him you really were dead for two years. And besides, you said it yourself; for you it felt like just a few days or weeks. That means that whatever happened between you two was fairly recent to you.”

Shepard was studying Garrus’ hands, so large beside her own on the bench. She tried to absorb his words, but they were uncomfortable and she wished desperately to ignore the truth of them. 

“If you want to fix this with him, you — ”

“No, that’s not — ” 

She hesitated, slightly surprised by how quickly she wanted to correct that line of thought for him. “That’s not what this is about, Garrus. What he and I had — it wasn’t what he thought, apparently. And maybe I should have been better about setting things straight then, but I can’t undo it now.” 

Heaving another sigh, she turned to face him at last. “What about when we see Liara? What about Tali? I saw her, before I found you on Omega, and she was definitely disturbed that I was with Cerberus. I just — I don’t know if I can handle everyone I trusted so much turning their backs on me. We were a team, we — we went through so much, did so much, together...”

Garrus faced her once more, removing his hands from the bench and letting them hover above her shoulders. He seemed unsure for a fraction of a second before he rested them on her, his thumbs resting on her collarbone, their weight gentle and reassuring to her. “Not everyone, Shepard. Some of them will see the truth. And at least one of them already has.” 

She smiled up at him, trying to keep her eyes from watering. Crying was something she never did, but she felt touched that he had so much faith in her.

“Thank you, Garrus,” she murmured.

He cleared his throat and removed his hands from her shoulders. “Now come on, get out of the rest of that armor and let’s go have a drink. What do you say?”

Shepard smirked at the sight Garrus’ mandibles flexed, the way they did when he was only a moment away from teasing or chuckling. 

“Sure, that sounds — like just what I need.”


	4. Old Friends & New Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So editing is relatively easy and so updates might actually be quick, but my writer's block also seems to have actually broken and um - 
> 
> Have a completely new chapter!
> 
> I hit a stride with my writing after editing that last chapter and this one just clicked when I thought about adding it, so here. Enjoy some actual new content instead of just polished up, revamped, edited content!
> 
> Hooray! ~~Sorry I'm way too excited to be writing again after RL was crazy and then this pandemic happened and stressed me out~~
> 
> Also just like in the original, I'm making a lot of assumptions that you're familiar with canon. As much as I will occasionally cover it, I'm also going to heavily gloss over a lot of it and just work with the assumption that you know what's up.
> 
> xx,  
> Lara

“Listen, if you’re down here for another attempt at girl talk —”

Shepard gave Jack a wide berth in the hallway, smirking even as she tried to keep the biotic comfortable. “Nope, not this time. Came down to check out our Krogan recruit.”

“Shit. You gonna wake him up?” Jack paused, tapping the datapad she was holding against her palm. It had become a permanent fixture once she was aboard the Normandy, the payment she had requested from Shepard in exchange for joining the mission. Despite Miranda’s protests, Shepard had been more than happy to hand over the information.

“That’s the idea,” Shepard told her. She crossed her arms as she considered the hint of concern she saw on Jack’s face, wondering what part of her statement was most worrisome to someone like her. “Are you also going to try to change my mind?”

Jack laughed, shaking her head. “You’re a crazier bitch than I thought, that’s all. I kind of thought you were a pussy. Hope he doesn’t kill you.”

With a chuckle Shepard held up her hand in a perfect **_ok_** as she turned away. “Thanks for the moral support. Knew I could count on you.”

“Anytime!” Jack called after her, voice carrying the laughter it still held as they continued toward their destinations at opposite ends of the hallway.

The doors to the Port Cargo Deck opened and Shepard strode in, taking stock of her surroundings before she finally settled on the glass tank resting in the center of the room.

She couldn’t decide what she thought of the Krogan, the one Okeer had called “perfect” and died defending. He seemed as any other Krogan she had seen, perhaps younger and lacking scars that came with centuries of life as a warrior. All she really hoped was that he was less crazed than the other tank-grown Krogans Okeer had been creating.

“EDI.”

A terminal by the door illuminated. “Yes, Shepard?”

“Be on standby, I’m going to wake the Krogan,” she directed.

“Cerberus protocol —” The AI began.

“This is _my_ ship,” Shepard interrupted, her voice icy as she glared in the direction of the terminal. “And _my_ mission. I’m waking up the Krogan, hang the ‘Cerberus protocols.'”

A pause, and then, “Yes, Shepard. Understood.”

Shepard took one moment to steady herself, to study the room once more before she checked the placement of the handgun in the back of her waistband. Confident that she had her bases covered, she raised her omni-tool and made short work of opening the tank.

The Krogan gave a spluttering gurgle as he was released, the glass sliding open to allow him to fall out of it. Shepard watched as he coughed out the lingering remnants of the tank fluid, and then he raised a violent, threatening, completely impersonal glare to her.

In an instant he stood, a hand at her throat as he rushed her, forcing her back against a wall. She grunted and pushed at his chest with one forearm, subtly reaching behind her to draw her weapon.

But she’d give him a chance before she used it.

The look in his eyes was intense, and yet beneath it was a strange curiosity, and she realized she was watching him take his first look at the world around him. And his first look was _her._

“Hm. Human, female.” He studied her for a moment before he squinted. Sniffing loudly, he let out a hum of acknowledgment, and then nodded. “Before I kill you — a name.”

“Commander Shepard of the Normandy. You’re on my ship, and I suggest you stand down,” she gritted out, tightening her grip on her gun without giving its presence near his waist away.

“Not _your_ name. I don’t care about your name,” the Krogan growled. “My name. The tank, I have — imprints, foggy memories. Old hates. Okeer did nothing but talk, but his imprint failed. I feel — no connection. I have no name, no reason to care.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “He said you were perfect.”

The Krogan’s upper lip curled. “Perfect, yes. And once I find a reason to care I will crush my enemies before me.” His gaze roamed over her face. “You are puny. I suppose you will make an adequate kill, to begin with. But first — a name. Did Okeer give you a name?”

“No,” Shepard told him honestly. She thought for a moment, strangely calm as she regarded the young Krogan pinning her to the wall. “What about Okeer? Or legacy? Something with meaning, that ties to your creation?”

A scoff met her suggestions. “Those words ring hollow. Okeer was obsessed with old hatreds, with himself. Legacy — no. I don’t feel that word. I am simply tank-born, Krogan — grunt. Hm.”

He paused, glancing away and slightly down, and Shepard tightened her grip on her weapon even as she pulled it back against her side, hoping he didn’t spot it.

“Grunt — _grunt._ It’s meaningless — it was among the last. I like it. It will do,” he continued in a thoughtful murmur. “Now, human —”

“Wait,” she interrupted, her heart skipping a beat for the first time. After a hard swallow she cocked an eyebrow, offering a confident, lazy grin. “You seek enemies to fight, a reason for being? I have enemies. Lots of enemies — big enemies, threats to the entire galaxy. If you spare me, you can join me — and I’ll lead you into battles that will rival any of Okeer’s old hatreds.”

Grunt considered, eyes narrowed as he held her gaze. Finally after a long moment he spoke. “If you are weak, if your enemies are worthless — you realize I will have to kill you.”

“Of course,” she agreed, smirking as she felt the arm holding her to the wall loosen slightly. “But I promise you, you’ll find more than adequate battles if you follow me. And perhaps even some scars to tell stories about.”

With a chuckle Grunt finally released her, lowering his arm to his side. “All right, Shepard.”

She sighed and nodded, and checked the weapon she held. 

“Ha! Offer one hand and arm the other,” Grunt commented. “Well played.”

With a smirk, Shepard put the gun back in the waistband of her uniform. Holding out a hand to Grunt she raised an eyebrow. “So? You’ll join us?”

Grunt took her hand firmly in his, giving it a rough shake as he cackled. “Sure. Point me in the right direction and show me who to kill.”

“Excellent. Do you want me to help you get settled?”

He released her hand and shook his head, looking around the small room. “I think I’ll make do here. Away from stupid people, easier to keep out of their way so they’re out of mine. Best for everyone.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll give you a chance to...acclimatize. Oh, and the ship has an — AI. EDI. If you need anything.” Shepard grimaced as she watched a slight scowl come across the Krogan’s face. “Or you can just look for me. Need — need anything? I mean you were in the tank...um.”

Grunt chuckled and shook his head. “Take your — what do your people say? Your ‘mother hen’ somewhere else.”

Shepard laughed, throwing her head back as she turned on her heel. “All right, I’ll — get out of here. Welcome to the crew.”

With that she left him alone in the room, making her way to the elevator as she considered what had just happened. He could be a loose cannon, being a complete unknown as he was. But she decided to take him on a little faith, much the same way as she was almost everyone on her crew.

Everyone except three people — the only three people she already knew had her back.

She’d already bugged Joker once she’d gotten back on board after securing Grunt, and Garrus had made his way to the battery once they’d debriefed and he’d expressed his support of waking the tank-grown Krogan. As much as she wanted to seek him out for a drink, she also worried about making it routine. Even if they each seemed to seek each other out as habit already.

Instead she remembered the bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy she had secured the last time they had passed through the Citadel, and decided to grab it from her quarters. Once within her cabin she pressed the button to feed the fish she had bought on impulse, hating the empty fish tank taking up the wall just inside the door.

She sighed as she sank into the chair at her terminal, deciding to take a moment to check her messages before she went down to the Med Bay. There were two new ones, and she frowned as she took in the subject lines.

_Take Care of Garrus_

_About Horizon…_

After a pause she chose the latter, immediately rolling her eyes when she saw who it was from.

> _Shepard,_
> 
> _I’m sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I’d finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know?_
> 
> _Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don’t know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me…maybe it meant as much to you..._

As she continued reading her frown deepened, a cold sensation settling in her stomach as she absorbed the confessions and non-apologies.

_God damn it — Garrus was right._

A lover’s quarrel. Or at least, one wrapped up in a supposed battle of allegiance and ideals. He acted morally superior, and then sent _this_? She felt slapped in the face, the realization that it hadn’t really been about her being with Cerberus, even though sadly that had been the better option in her mind.

That was defensible, that was something she could argue over. She chose to work with enemies to defeat a greater threat, one that rendered all other quarrels inconsequential. After all, if there was no human race, no other species in the galaxy, what was the point of fighting Cerberus over their methods?

The Reapers were paramount to her, and she failed to understand how he couldn’t see that, couldn’t look past differences to help her as he once had.

Sighing deeply, she scrubbed a hand down her face before she shut the email, taking a chance on the other.

It was a complete reversal from the last, a heartfelt plea from the widow of one of Garrus’ squad members on Omega to look after him. Though a stranger to her, she felt a kinship with the woman as she read over her observations that Garrus blamed himself too much for what had happened to his crew — and her husband — though even in this email the details were foggy.

She hadn’t been willing to press him about what had happened, about the guilt that still clearly weighed heavily upon him. All she could hope was that his reassertion of support for her wasn’t simply trying to make up for perceived sins in his past, and did what she could to bolster him as they continued on their mission.

Feeling conflicted and drained, she turned her terminal off and reached for the paper-wrapped bottle of brandy waiting on her desk. Pushing herself to her feet she quickly strode across her room, pounding the button for the elevator as she tried to shake the irritation seizing her. 

Whether it was Kaidan’s misguided words or concern for her best friend she wasn’t certain, and she didn’t come up with an answer even as she departed the elevator and hung a left to head to the Med Bay.

“Oh — be careful Shep!”

The voice startled her as much as running into what she had thought to be thin air. A wavy shimmer rippled before her and revealed Kasumi, who tugged a bit at the hood on her head as she laughed.

“Kasumi!” Shepard rested a hand on her hip, resisting the urge to put it over her racing heart. “I — shit, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

“That was kind of the point,” Kasumi quipped. Another bright peal of laughter left her. “Just sneaking to the kitchen for a late night snack. Have to stay sharp somehow. At this rate I’m worried I’ll forget how to steal someone’s wallet or a candy bar.”

Instinctively Shepard patted her pocket, only to realize she didn’t have anything in it, especially after leaving her pistol on her desk in her quarters.

“Oh please. I know better than to steal from you,” Kasumi told her, chuckling. “Anyway. You look like you’re on your way somewhere serious, with that frown and all. I’ll let you carry on.”

Shepard smirked despite the irritation she felt, and then waved as she continued on her way. “Have a good night, Kasumi.”

“Oh, I will.”

Deciding it was best not to follow that up at all, Shepard walked to the Med Bay doors, pausing only a moment before she entered. Luckily the doctor was alone, and she smiled as Chakwas turned to see who was there.

“Ah, Commander,” Dr. Chakwas greeted. “What can I do for you?”

Shepard held up the bottle in offering, smiling as she watched the confusion on the other woman’s face. “Brought you a little ‘welcome back’ gift.”

“Oh you didn’t,” Chakwas chided, but she let out happy laughter and reached for the bottle. After ripping the paper so that she could see the label, she smiled even wider before she raised her gaze. “Commander, this is — you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted you to feel at home,” Shepard told her.

Chakwas considered for a moment, and then shook her head. “You know, I always saved the old bottle for a special occasion, but it never came.” She began to fumble with the foil label, tearing it so that she could pull at the cork stopper. “What say we open this now, and drink to the new Normandy?”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Life is short, and I’ve learned to take what I can when I can.”

Swallowing hard, Shepard took only a moment before she remembered to offer a smile. “Sounds good.”

She took the spinning chair across from the doctor and accepted the small plastic cup of brandy she was offered. Idly rocking in the chair she drained half of her drink in one go, still feeling the irritation at the emails she had received as well as subtle panic at the doctor’s words.

_Life is short._

_Even with a second shot at everything._

“It’s good to be back on this ship again,” Chakwas began after a moment.

Shepard gave a wry smile and glanced up to see the other woman swirling her brandy. “Not cut out for life on the ground?”

“No. I’ve tried and it’s — stagnant. I need the excitement spacefaring brings, the unpredictability. Planet life bores me, even at my age.” As if she had said something incredibly wicked, she giggled into her cup and took another long drink. Realizing they were already almost empty she grabbed the bottle, and topped them both off with larger pours than before.

“How do you feel about Cerberus?” Shepard couldn’t resist asking, watching over the rim of her cup as Chakwas waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m not working for Cerberus, I’m working for _you_. Plus Jeff — Joker — needs me. He’d never admit it, and you can’t breathe a word that I’ve said it, but — he does.”

Shepard smiled slightly, taking in the way Chakwas heaved a sigh. “He still gives you a bit of stability.”

“Yes, I suppose he does. And you — well, you’ll always need me to patch you up, the trouble you get into.” The doctor contemplated her cup before taking another gulp. “The others are all right, I suppose. Although having Garrus back on board has been nice. Almost makes it feel like it did before, watching you two, seeing you both up talking late into the night when I’m headed to bed, just like you used to.”

Swallowing hard, Shepard buried her gaze in her lap as she drained the rest of her drink. When Chakwas reached over with the bottle to top her off, Shepard let out a breath of laughter. “It’s been — nice, having him back. Helps me feel like I’m not completely alone.”

“I’m sure,” Chakwas agreed, pouring more for herself as well. “I suppose sometimes it feels as if the whole galaxy is against you. Having a familiar face at your back must be incredibly welcome.”

“It is,” Shepard breathed. She quickly raised her cup, hoping to avoid drawing attention to the wistful way in which she had agreed. The brandy was just barely affecting her, leaving her tingling and contented but still keenly aware of everything going on. 

Including the way she felt flushed at the mention of her close friendship with Garrus.

“You know, I offered to do more for his wounds so that he wouldn’t scar, but he refused,” Chakwas divulged, her cheeks pink and drink splashing almost precariously in her cup. “I almost think he liked the idea that he’d scar. And the last time I had him come in he essentially admitted as much!”

Shepard chuckled, contemplating her drink as she remembered the teasing way he had suggested some women liked scars. He had held her gaze intently, waiting for her response. And since then he had brought them up a few times, flexing his mandibles as he gingerly studied the damage with his fingers.

“You seem more at ease around him,” Chakwas blurted into the silence.

Taking a deep breath, Shepard tapped a finger against the cup she held. “I think you’re right,” she finally began. “Having someone familiar, someone who knew me before — I’m surrounded by people I don’t fully trust. Having him back has been — good.”

She felt lame ending on such a lackluster word, and eagerly drained more of her brandy to cover the way she had fumbled her response. But Chakwas was nodding rapidly, bobbing her head as she finished her drink and then encouraged Shepard to hold hers out for a refill once more.

“I’m glad you have him,” Chakwas agreed as she sloshed brandy into Shepard’s cup, and then her own. “I worried for you when we were first back on the Normandy, after everything you’d been through. But he’s steady, and he cares a great deal. Never expected that of a Turian, but then again — he’s not like most Turians. And strangely I think he takes pride in that.”

Shepard smirked and nodded. “You’re right, I think he does. I think he enjoys cruising around on a human ship, rogue Turian righting wrongs without answering to anyone.”

“He found a home here. As most of us did, at your side. Commander.”

She was taken aback by the doctor’s words, and ran her thumb along her cup as she considered how to respond. It reminded her of how she had mishandled things with Kaidan, how she had let herself get swept up in what she could only describe now as idolization and hero worship. Wishing she had been smarter, that she hadn’t been so resistant to forming real bonds, that she hadn’t let herself _enjoy_ the admiration, she swallowed hard and shook her head.

“You never call me by my first name, Karin,” she pointed out, emphasizing the doctor’s name as she tried to draw attention away from the introspection she had fallen into.

“And I never will!” Chakwas asserted, looking positively offended as she sat up straight and met Shepard’s gaze with her bleary eyes. “It’s an affront to who you are, disrespecting all that you’ve accomplished. You will always be Commander Shepard to me.”

Shepard heaved a sigh as she took another deep gulp of her brandy. She couldn’t remember the last time she had heard the name _Fiona_ pass someone’s lips, unable to recall if Kaidan had even used her first name in bed the night before Ilos.

“It’s an honor to be back on this ship, Commander. It makes me feel as if I’ve — found my calling. The Alliance is my husband and you’re all my children, and I — I awake every day looking forward to what shenanigans you will get up to, what or who I’ll have to fix.”

A moment passed in friendly silence before Chakwas broke into a fit of laughter.

“Oh, listen to me prattle on. I didn’t mean to bore you with my reasons for enjoying life back on the Normandy. And if you breathe a word about this to Jeff — Joker — I’ll —”

“No need to worry, Doc,” Shepard assured her, chuckling as she watched the woman relax back into her chair. “I’m glad to see you let your hair down for once.”

“You’re right. Perhaps I’m just happily drunk. Is it too terrible if it’s that _simple_ , for once? Just happy to be blissfully, happily drunk?”

Shepard considered for a moment, and then one corner of her mouth quirked up as she held out her cup. “To simply being blissfully, happily drunk.”

Chakwas let out a whoop and tapped her cup to Shepard’s before raising it to her lips to drain in one go. Shepard did the same, but noticed the other woman swaying in her chair when she finished.

A glance at the bottle between them on the desk revealed that it was empty.

“All right, let’s get you lying down,” Shepard said, setting her empty cup aside. She watched as Chakwas finished her own before setting it down, and then held her hands out to the doctor.

“I can — do it on my own — whoops.” Chakwas stumbled as she tried to stand and Shepard quickly reached out to brace and steady her with her hands. “Thank you, Comman- _hic_ -Commander.”

“Of course.” Guiding Chakwas to one of the cots that lined one wall, she helped her onto it, making certain to lay her on her side. She situated her legs, tugging off her boots and setting them down beside the bed.

“I’ll set some water here for you,” Shepard muttered, and once she had secured the promised water and left it within reach, she headed for the Med Bay doors.

With one glance back at where the doctor rested, she waved for the lights to turn off and then made her way across the mess to the elevator.

She was still only pleasantly intoxicated, able to ignore the strangeness of her situation, no longer fixated on the messages she had received. Despite having longed to seek out Garrus and his comforting counsel, she was happy that she had sought out Chakwas instead, that she had enjoyed the comfort of another old friend without having to tiptoe around old and lingering wounds.

When she sank into her bed at last she felt a burden had been lifted, however slight.


	5. Eye for an Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again slightly canon heavy, but I took the chance to build them up a bit more as a battle couple because I just love that about Shakarian so much.  
> <3 <3 <3

_Illium Skald Fish. They’re easy to take care of, no problem!_

Shepard grumbled over the sales pitch she had fallen for as she nodded at a crewmember passing by, slipping the wadded up shirt behind her back. She hadn’t known what else to do when she had returned to find her fish floating upside down, a panicked embarrassment overcoming her that she couldn’t even keep fish alive.

Determined not to let herself worry that this minor failing implied that things didn’t bode well for the rest of the galaxy, she scanned the mess hall.

There was only Gardner, sitting at a table with his back to the kitchen as he ate. Letting out a sigh of relief, Shepard hurried as quietly as she could to the compost compactor beside the sink. After opening it she unfurled the shirt, letting the fish roll into the waiting bin.

Only one went rogue, flopping with a wet _squelch_ on the counter.

“Oh, good, Shepard. I was — wait, what are you doing?”

Burying the yelp she wanted to give at being caught in the midst of unceremoniously disposing of her fish, she hurried to slide the rogue one off the counter to join the others. In her panic she didn’t know what to do with the Cerberus shirt she still held, and threw it into the compactor as if making certain to get rid of all the evidence. Sliding the bin closed with her hip she finally turned to face Garrus, folding her arms and trying to appear casual and _definitely not embarrassed or guilty._

Garrus’ eye plates were raised, his mandibles flexing with suppressed humor as he stared at her. He seemed incapable of speaking, glancing between her face and the compactor.

Shepard cleared her throat and looked away from his bemusement. “Hey, Garrus, what’s up?”

“Were you —”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” she denied. 

“Uh huh,” he hummed slowly, nodding as he held her gaze for a moment.

And then his humor broke at last, mandibles fluttering as his sub harmonics wheezed. Shepard watched him, thoroughly offended for several moments before she put her face in one hand and joined him.

She took a few steps to close the distance between them, trying to quiet her laughter as she rubbed at her forehead.

“Fuck, Garrus, I can’t even keep _fish_ alive,” she muttered.

“Well, luckily for you it isn’t your pet care abilities I needed you for,” Garrus reassured her, no longer wheezing as he patted her shoulder in mock sympathy.

Shepard rolled her eyes and gestured to the battery, leading the way and waiting until the doors closed before she faced him. “So, you need to make use of my fish-murdering skills?”

Garrus let out another wheezing chuckle, but then turned serious. “No, not _those_ ones in particular, but I do need your help with something.” He leaned against the console and folded his arms, taking a moment before he spoke again. “Do you remember me saying that I was betrayed by one of my men?”

She nodded. “You never told me exactly what happened.”

_And I didn’t want to push._

“It was my own damn fault. A Turian named Sidonis. He drew me away just before the mercs attacked my squad, then he disappeared." He paced before her, his irritation growing at the memory. “Everyone except me is dead because of him. And because I didn’t see it coming.”

“I’m not sure I understand why you think it was him."

“Sidonis asked for my help on a job. When I got to the meeting point, no one was there.” He turned to face her, stopping his pacing. “By the time I got back to our hideout, the mercs had killed all but two of my squad. And they didn’t last long.”

“Are you sure it was a betrayal? Maybe they took Sidonis out first,” Shepard suggested, folding her arms. She remembered the email she had gotten from one of the widows, the insistence that it wasn't his fault.

The guilt lurking in his posture, in the way he was carrying himself now, pained her, made her wish there was a way to make him see it.

“No. I’ve put out feelers with some old contacts. He booked passage off Omega before the attack. He also cleared out his private accounts before he left. He sold me out and ran.” Garrus’ silver eyes were crystal clear, full of fury. 

She wasn’t certain he had even looked as angry when they hunted down Dr. Saleon.

“Do you know where Sidonis is now?”

“I’ve found a lead on him.” Garrus stepped toward the door, resuming his pacing. Shepard took a few steps and followed him until he stopped. “There’s a specialist on the Citadel, name’s Fade. He’s an expert at helping people disappear. Sidonis was seen with him.”

“What are you planning to do when you find him?” Shepard’s brow furrowed, unsure that she liked Garrus’ tone. 

He turned to face her; they were standing close again and his eyes were icy fire as he looked down at her. “You humans have a saying, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. Well, Sidonis owes me ten lives, and I plan to collect.”

“Are you sure that’s how you want to play it?” Shepard’s voice was quiet, firm.

If this was what he wanted, she would help him. But it seemed a bit unlike him. Two years on Omega had changed him, and her heart fractured slightly as she absorbed it. 

_Two years without me._

“I’m sure. You don’t have to agree with me, but I’d like your help.” Garrus’ voice was just as firm, just as determined. They locked eyes for a moment, coming to a silent agreement.

“Where do we find Fade?” she asked.

* * *

Garrus maneuvered the cab easily, swerving in and out of the Citadel traffic as if it wasn’t there. Shepard sat beside him, glancing occasionally to her left, studying him intently. It was just the two of them, since she knew Garrus was only willing to trust her with something so important to him.

The contact he had arranged to meet had turned out to be a volus who was only an associate. It seemed Fade worried for his safety and anonymity and let someone else handle meetings with new clients. After they had brandished their weapons, the volus had quickly sold out the true identity of Fade.

“I always knew Harkin was a creep, but didn’t know he’d stoop to this,” Shepard observed.

Garrus snorted. “I’m not all that surprised, really,” he replied sardonically. He began the cab’s descent, heading for the warehouse where Harkin was supposed to be hiding.

With Blue Suns mercenaries in view.

Once landed, they climbed out of the cab and checked their weapons. With a silent nod to each other, they approached the warehouse.

“There he is!” Shepard called out when she spotted their target.

At the sound Harkin spun around, and at the sight of them he shouted directions to the mercenaries before fleeing inside.

They ducked behind cover, exchanging fire with the mercenaries at the door. Despite the almost militaristic coordination of Blue Suns mercs, they weren't any match for the familiar, practiced rhythm into which Shepard and Garrus fell so easily.

“You can run, Harkin, but you can’t hide!” Garrus yelled as they entered the warehouse.

The sound of footsteps running away from them was quickly masked by the sound of Blue Suns coordinating. Shepard hid behind cover again, determined to get to Harkin, no matter how many mercenaries they had to cut down to do it.

They fought their way through the warehouse until they reached a control room. After securing it, they made their way to the large window that overlooked the room beyond.

“So Harkin’s finally gone completely bad,” Shepard commented.

“He was always a pain in the ass,” Garrus replied lazily. “But I’m in no mood for his games. If he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life.”

“You seem to be getting tense, Garrus,” she observed, watching him warily.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Harkin may know why Sidonis wanted to disappear. If so, he knows why we’re here and I don’t want him tipping Sidonis off.”

Shepard nodded. She could understand his logic. They silently looked over the room beyond the window, which was full of crates and machinery. Something seemed to move on the other side of the room, and they drew their weapons and ducked below the window. 

“Did you see that?” Garrus asked her.

“I saw _something_ ,” Shepard agreed.

“He’s getting ready for us." Garrus checked his gun, and stealthily tried to peer out of the window to see what had moved.

“What are you going to do if Harkin won’t cooperate?” She watched him carefully, frowning slightly as she took in the hard glint in his eyes.

“He’s a real criminal now. Working for the Blue Suns. I should just shoot him on sight. But I need him alive, so I won’t do any permanent damage. Just enough to loosen his tongue.”

Shepard sighed.

_Was this my influence?_

“You don’t need to hurt him to get what you want.”

“Harkin’s a coward, he’ll talk before I can _really_ hurt him.” Garrus gave a short laugh, glancing sidelong at her.

“Are you still planning to kill Sidonis when we find him?” She couldn’t help herself, she had to keep pushing him. The concern she felt over him, watching what this was doing to him…

As much as she wanted to help him she worried over the method of choice.

He bristled slightly, glaring away from her as if getting annoyed with her questions.

“That’s the plan. It’ll be quick and painless. Unlike everyone he betrayed, he’ll be spared the agony of a slow death. It’s more than he deserves, but as long as he’s dead, I’ll be satisfied.”

“Garrus, do you really think killing Sidonis will make things right?” She wanted to make certain he was doing what he truly believed was best, making him reason it out to reassure her.

“I know you don’t like it Shepard, but I have to do this.”

“Is there no other way?”

“Maybe. But this is personal.” He sounded more annoyed, but still firm in his conviction, even in the face of her doubt. “I’ll pull the trigger. And I’ll live with the consequences. All I’m asking you to do is help me find him.”

He stared deep into her eyes, holding her gaze unflinchingly to emphasize his intent. 

She knew how much this meant to him, how much weight rested on his shoulders. Recently their evening talks had taken place later and later in the evening, or were nonexistent at all. She worried for him, worried over the misplaced guilt he carried within him, and finally accepted that he wouldn't let it go unless she helped him do this.

And so she decided to let it rest.

“Let’s go find out what Harkin has in store, then,” Shepard said, gun at the ready.

“Right behind you,” Garrus agreed.

What was in store for them turned out to be several more mercenaries, security mechs, and even a YMIR mech.

Garrus and Shepard continued in their usual rhythm, the battle pattern so familiar to them now that enemies seemed to just lay down before them. The others in their crew often faltered when fighting beside the pair, out of sync and lacking the seamless communication and awareness that they had with one another. Now, though, it was just the two of them, and they worked as if one, leaving the enemies that faced them little chance.

There were a few close encounters in the fight, but Shepard threw up barriers when needed and blocked them from any serious damage. It was routine, no matter how strange that may be, used to violent resistance and knowing Garrus had her back through it all. Much as she had his, even when they didn't see eye to eye.

When the dust settled, the YMIR mech letting out sparks as it collapsed, they waited to make certain that was the last of them. Once they were, they charged up the platforms to another control room. Shepard had spotted Harkin in the window, and no one else.

They had him cornered.

As she charged into the room, Harkin was trying desperately to reboot any of the fallen mechs to come defend him. Garrus had split off to the other door, and Shepard drew her gun as she hoped Harkin’s attention would focus on her long enough to surprise him. 

Harkin looked up, premature triumph in the smug glare he gave Shepard. “You were close, but not close enough!” He turned to run out the opposite door, clearly assuming he could still win.

Instead, he ran into the butt of Garrus’ gun. 

His cry had a strange whine to it as he clamped a hand to his bloodied, broken nose and slumped to the floor.

Garrus picked him up roughly by the arm and slammed him against the wall. “So, Fade…couldn’t make yourself disappear, huh?”

“Come on Garrus, we can work this out, whaddaya need?” Harkin sniveled. He forced a smile through the blood running down his face.

“I’m looking for someone.” Garrus released Harkin and let him slide a few inches down the wall once more.

“Well, I guess we both have something the other one wants,” the small man jeered.

As an answer, Garrus punched him in the stomach, and Harkin fell back onto the floor as he spluttered.

“We didn’t come here to ask favors, Harkin,” Shepard snapped.

“You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him," Garrus demanded in a growl.

“I might need a little more information than that,” Harkin gritted out as he rubbed his stomach.

“His name was Sidonis. Turian, came from —”

“I know who he is, and I’m not telling you _squat_."

“Harkin,” Shepard heaved a sigh, “this doesn’t have to be hard.”

“Screw you, _bitch_ ,” Harkin spat, glowering at Shepard.

Garrus lunged and kneed him in the gut, knocking him to his side once more. He looked wild, furious. Shepard couldn't help but wonder if it was frustration at his lack of cooperation — or perhaps the insult to her. He hadn’t had the same terrifying look in his eyes before Harkin had said it. 

“I don’t give out client information, it’s bad for business!” Harkin grunted.

But Garrus easily rolled him over with his armored foot, placing its weight on Harkin's throat.

“Do you know what else is bad for business?” he drawled. “A broken neck.” He pushed down gradually on his opponent’s neck, and Harkin struggled against the weight, trying but failing to claw the foot off of him. 

Shepard stood for a moment, watching, before deciding that Harkin wouldn’t be any use to them if Garrus actually _did_ break his neck. Reaching out she tapped Garrus on the shoulder. 

He glanced back at her, and finally seemed to see reason; the wild look disappeared from his eyes as he removed his foot and gave the man space.

Harkin rolled onto his stomach, coughing desperately as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up, his eyes finally holding a hint of terror as he took in the Turian still looming over him. “Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?”

Garrus paused, considering the man before him. “No, but Sidonis…opened my eyes,” Garrus answered after a moment, and Shepard noticed a sad note in the tone of his voice, his sub harmonics resonating deeply. 

“Now arrange a meeting.” The tone was gone as soon as she had noticed it, replaced by renewed anger as he jerked his head in the direction of the nearby terminal. 

Harkin slowly got to his feet and headed toward it. He opened a comm. channel and arranged a meeting, telling Sidonis his new identity had been compromised. Garrus checked the ammo on his gun as he waited, the very air of patience. Harkin told Sidonis that he was sending an agent to meet with him and fix the issue before the line went dead.

“It’s all done, he wants to meet you in the Orbital Lounge. In an hour.” He scowled at the pair of them as he turned back around. “So if our business is done, I’ll be going…”

Garrus grabbed him and pushed him against the wall, his gun pointed at his chin. “Let you go? No I don’t think so. You’re a criminal now, Harkin, I can’t just let you go.”

“So you’re just going to kill me? That’s not your style, Garrus.” Yet even as he denied it, his voice wavered and he eyed the gun with an obvious gulp of apprehension.

“Kill you? No. But I don’t mind slowing you down a little.” Garrus stepped back from Harkin and pointed his gun at Harkin’s knee.

Shepard watched, indecisive for a moment. But she stood back, allowing Garrus the shot, unwilling to continue to question him and instead making certain he knew she was with him. Even in this, the consequences weren't his alone.

* * *

Garrus landed the cab not far from the arranged meeting place. He sat for a moment, staring out the window as if lost in thought. 

“Harkin’s a bloody menace, he deserved to be punished. We shouldn’t have just let him go.”

“You were a little hard on him, Garrus,” Shepard pointed out. “I’m getting a little worried about you.”

“You don’t think he deserved it?”

“It’s just not like you,” Shepard reasoned. She was staring at him, brows furrowed.

Garrus turned, his eyes whipping like blue fire. “What do you want from me, Shepard?” he snapped. He looked back out through his window, breathing deeply as he took a moment. “What would you do if someone betrayed you?”

“I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t let it change me.”

“I would’ve said the same thing before it happened to me.” He glanced her way, a plaintive, wounded look on his face.

She worried for a moment that this wouldn’t actually help him, that perhaps it would only dig him further into the hole he was convinced was his proper residence. 

“It’s not too late, you don’t have to go through with this,” Shepard appealed one last time.

“Who’s going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don’t? Nobody else knows what he’s done. Nobody else even cares.” Garrus retorted. “I don’t see any other options.”

Shepard mused over his words, turning the logic over in her mind. Sidonis had led to the deaths of Garrus’ men on Omega, a place without laws and courts. Even if she could persuade Sidonis to turn himself in, what good would it do? It wasn’t like they could extradite him, she realized cynically.

Garrus had asked her to help him with this, and she saw no other way to provide justice for his men — and closure for him.

Again, she came to a decision. “All right, Garrus, I won’t mention it again.”

“I appreciate that.” Garrus said. He didn’t offer her a smile when he met her gaze, but the look in his eyes had softened. 

“I need to set up.” He began looking out the cab windows for vantage points. “I can get a clear shot from over there.”

“You just want me to get him into position?” she asked, following his gaze to where he was pointing so that she could scope out the area.

“Basically. Just keep him talking for a minute. When I’ve got him in my sights, I’ll let you know. Give me a signal when you’re ready and I’ll take the shot.”

Shepard nodded and got out of the cab. Garrus took off as soon as she closed the door and flew to the vantage point he had chosen. Walking toward the Orbital Lounge, she did her best to act casual, scanning the crowd while she waited.

 _“Shepard, can you hear me?”_ Garrus’ voice whispered in her ear.

“Loud and clear.”

 _“All right, there he is. Bring him over and keep him talking,”_ Garrus directed.

Shepard saw a Turian sitting by himself on a bench and caught his eye, motioning him over. He stood and approached her, looking over his shoulders as he did so.

“Let’s get this over with,” Sidonis said once he had closed the distance between them.

 _“You’re in my shot, Shepard,”_ Garrus told her over the comms. She stepped slightly to the left, as though she was checking behind Sidonis to be sure the coast was clear.

“Fade sent me, I’m here to smooth things over with your new identity,” Shepard lied. She crossed her arms, offering a meager smile as if to reassure him.

 _“I’ve got a clear shot,”_ Garrus whispered.

“Quick, I need to get out of here, come on!” Sidonis demanded. “What’s the hold up?”

Shepard’s smile widened as she casually held up a hand for Garrus to see. “Garrus Vakarian sends his regards, Sidonis,” she murmured. 

A look of mortal terror passed across Sidonis’ face, and he had barely turned to flee before a loud _bang_ echoed actoss the space. He fell to the floor, the shot having hit its mark dead on.

 _“Betrayal repaid, Sidonis,”_ Shepard heard Garrus whisper. She turned on the spot and quickly pushed her way through the gathering crowd. 

“Let’s get out of here,” she told him softly over the comms.

Garrus picked her up in the cab a few moments later, and as they took off she looked at him, trying to gauge his mood. “So, is this over?”

“Yes,” he replied, then fell silent as he drove. For a time nothing but the sound of the cab moving through the air could be heard.

“Thank you, Shepard,” he said finally, and gave her a smile.


	6. Suggestion

When they returned to the Normandy, Shepard decided to give Garrus his space. It wasn't until the next evening that she went down to the battery as she frequently did, hoping he was feeling more at peace than he had for weeks.

“Hey,” she said when the doors had opened. “Got a minute?”

He turned his back on the console at the sound of her voice, an eager look on his face. “Sure. Just killing time right now anyway.” He smiled, and she was pleased to see it seemed like the first genuine one he’d given in ages.

"I actually wanted to thank you again for your help with Sidonis. Whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers or whoever else comes after us, I know you’ll get the job done.”

She moved to sit on the crates near the console, and chuckled as he spoke, resting her elbows on her knees to prop her chin in a hand. “You actually think we’ll find something worse than the Collectors or Reapers?”

Honestly she shuddered at the thought, despite the teasing tone of his suggestion.

He shrugged, folding his arms as he met her gaze with a smirk. “I like to expect the worst. There’s a small chance I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Shepard returned his smile, the unease disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “I couldn’t do this without you, Garrus,” she confessed. 

Goose bumps sprung up on her arms again as he continued to grin at her, at the way a soft and pleasant hum greeted the confession, as if he was using just his sub harmonics to acknowledge the words.

She found herself wishing she’d had a drink before coming down to steady her nerves, which were suddenly frayed. They had been just as close as they always were in recent weeks, and yet they had both had more than enough on their respective plates. This, seeing him relaxed once more, teasing and laughing was reminding her of their comfortable chats all those nights in the cargo bay, the way they had continued so naturally when he’d joined her after Omega.

“Oh sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course,” he finally quipped, his laughter giving off a soft twang and she held back a shiver. 

What was wrong with her tonight? She thought she’d gotten this under control, working to compartmentalize her feelings after what had happened on Horizon. But now he was smiling so easily and the hum of his sub harmonics sounded happy and relaxed. Since he had returned to the Normandy there had been few times he had sounded this genuinely content, and now it was happening around her, after she had helped him with something so intimate.

It was intoxicating, despite how she felt thrown by the sudden reemergence of the feelings she had done her best to bury in friendship.

“It’s strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship. Your people don’t prepare for high risk operations the way Turians do.” His musings pulled her out of her train of thought, and she glanced up at him with a small frown.

“I thought you’d be used to high-risk operations on human ships. I mean, think about tracking Saren to Ilos.” She shrugged but watched with some bemusement as he scoffed lightly and shook his head.

“Sure, but that was quick. We raced out, landed, blew up some geth, and saved the galaxy.” He paced in front of where she sat. “This time we’ve got Miranda and Cerberus and that AI all telling us what we’re up against. I think I preferred blind optimism.”

“Honestly, Garrus, what do you think our chances are?” she asked, curious for his opinion since it was the one she valued above the others he had just listed.

“Honestly? The Collectors killed you once, and all it did is piss you off. I can’t imagine they’ll stop you this time.” He continued his pacing as if it helped him think through the logistics. “But an unmapped area, advanced technology, and the Collectors? We’re going to lose people. No way around that.” 

He stopped pacing and sighed, hesitantly meeting her gaze. “Not a happy analysis, I know. Don’t worry, I won’t spread it around. And I’m with you, regardless.”

She nodded absently, thinking again how true it was that she couldn’t do it without him. Knowing he had her back still meant the world to her, and the way he was looking at her now…

Did her help with Sidonis mean he knew she had his, no matter what? There was something in his gaze, as if this, whatever this bond was between them, had been solidified to the point that it was unshakable.

Unbreakable, beyond a doubt.

Her body was feeling warm, and so she decided to change the subject. “Considering everything we've been through, you ever regret leaving C-Sec or the Turian military?”

“Not for a minute,” he asserted, emphasized by slashing his arm in the air in front of him. “When it comes down to it, Shepard, I don’t think I’m a very good Turian. When a good Turian hears a bad order, he follows it. He might complain, but he knows his place. I just don’t see the point in staying quiet and polite. Not when the galaxy is at stake.”

Shepard chuckled, reveling in the kinship between them. “You and me both,” she agreed. 

They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. After a time Shepard looked back up at him, surprised to find his gaze wandering over her face. Clearing her throat she looked away, thinking of a way to pull herself out of musing over the meaning behind his eyes. 

“So then I’m curious — how do Turian crews get ready for high-risk missions?”

“With violence, usually.” He folded his arms before him as he smirked. “Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance, but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise, combat sims — even full-contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress.”

“You mean Turian ships have crew members fighting each other before a mission?” Her eyebrows rose as she considered.

“It’s supervised, of course,” he reassured her. “Nobody is going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it’s a good way to settle grudges amicably.”

He chuckled a bit as he resumed his pacing. “I remember right before one mission — we were about to hit a Batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other’s throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring.”

“I assume you took her down gently?” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Even for a Turian he seemed ever a gentleman.

“Actually, she and I were the top-ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach but she had flexibility.” He paused and smirked. “It was brutal. After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room. We, ah — ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters.”

Here he paused again and cleared his throat with a soft whirr of sub harmonics. “I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess.”

Shepard studied her hands for a moment. Before she could think twice about it, before she could talk herself out of acting on the opportunity because she was  _ Fiona Fucking Shepard _ and she didn’t need to play the bashful schoolgirl, she chuckled and spoke.

“You know, it sounds like you’re carrying around some tension now,” she murmured, raising her eyes to his. “Maybe I could help you get rid of it.” 

She stood and approached him slowly, her heart racing as she acknowledged the risk she was taking.

Even  _ Fiona Fucking Shepard _ could get rejected, and ruin friendships in the process. But perhaps suggesting it like this — maybe she could simply work it out of her system, maybe they could work off the stress together and then get back to focusing on the mission.

Closest friends, as they were now — only after having seen one another naked.

“I, ah, didn’t think you felt like sparring, Commander.” He sounded taken aback, and she noticed the deliberate change in address.

“What if we skipped right to the tiebreaker? We could test your reach and…my flexibility.” Her voice was somehow sultry, but mentally she cringed. 

_ What kind of a line was that? _

She was way too out of practice for this, and she wondered if she should just laugh and claim it was a joke before fleeing.

_ Abort mission, abort — _

The distance had closed between them, and she could see the slight shock registering on his face.

“Oh! I didn’t…Huh.” He stared down at her for a moment, his expression incomprehensible once the shock wore off. “Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.” 

She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows at him, amazed at the way he seemed to be seriously considering, his eyes lit up. He took a few steps back and paced some more, thinking. Watching him carefully, she felt as if she was holding her breath as she waited for any answer.

Anything was better than this silence that had fallen between them.

“Well, why the hell not? There’s nobody in this galaxy I respect more than you. And if we can figure out a way to make it work, then…yeah, definitely.” His voice held a note of excitement, and the thrum of it caused her heart to race.

Not only not a  _ no _ , but genuine anticipation?

He spun back to face her, and she saw a determined spark in his eyes.

She stopped her internal cringing and second-guessing, realizing that he had just said yes and actually meant it. Taking a few steps toward him, she smiled as he peered down, surprise still in his eyes as he considered her.

“Well then…At least we have that to look forward to,” she murmured, her voice still low. When she offered him a smile, he readily returned it, his mandibles fluttering as his eyes swept rapidly over her face once more.

Deciding it was best not to linger in case he thought she meant  _ right this second _ , she swept past him and exited through the battery’s doors, leaving him to stare after her.

* * *

Shepard again found herself staring at the terminal in her cabin, but this time she had actually followed through on the extranet search she had been contemplating for weeks.

Now the unfortunate problem was the lack of any good vids, since the vast majority seemed to focus on Turians who had a human domination fetish. 

There was a plethora of vids imagining if the Turians had enslaved human females during the First Contact War, or after if they had hypothetically won and taken them as spoils in their victory. She clicked one and skipped through the contrived dialogue, trying to fast forward to the action so she could get an idea of how things would work.

It couldn't be  _ that  _ different, right?

Unfortunately, again, this particular vid seemed more about the bondage aspect, and once they actually started having sex she realized this vid fell into the same format human pornography did as well. There was no way regular people actually had sex like this.

All she wanted was to see a Turian dick and see if she could make it work — was that too much to ask?

“Commander, do you have a minute?” 

The familiar voice surprised her since she hadn’t heard her door open, and she jumped in her seat as she quickly began to fumble the windows closed on her terminal. In her panic she accidentally swiped too close to the volume — and turned it up all the way.

"Fuck!"

She scrambled to correct her mistake, momentarily considering blasting the terminal with her biotics if it just meant this moment would  _ end. _

Once she had finally managed to close the window, she slowly spun around — only to find an incredibly shocked Joker standing behind her.

“Joker! Don’t you knock?” Shepard scolded, feeling her cheeks positively burning as if she would spontaneously combust.

“I’m sorry, Commander, I asked EDI and she said you were just looking things up on the extranet and weren’t busy. I — was that —” Joker was starting to laugh. “Commander, were you — were you watching First Contact porn?”

Shepard groaned, wishing more than ever that she could sink into her chair and disappear forever. Or that she had her gun handy.

She stood and walked over to the bottle of whiskey she had brought up to have a nightcap alone, deciding she couldn’t trust herself to drink with Garrus tonight. After pouring herself three fingers, she downed it all in one gulp. Joker continued snickering as he watched her.

“I mean, Commander, I’m not judging, I just didn’t think you were the type.” He limped down the two steps in the cabin and took a seat on the sofa. She shot him a glare and poured herself another two fingers. “But if you were in the market for that, you should have asked. I have some that are  _ waaaaay _ better than that amateur garbage.”

Shepard continued to glare at him, but then took a thoughtful sip. She did find herself in need of a better vid or two, but Joker was also a notorious blabbermouth.

“Joker,” she began finally, deciding to discreetly make the request. “Would you keep it just between us? I need them for, ah, research.”

She instantly realized her mistake, though, as a look of comprehension crossed her pilot’s face and he burst into laughter. Again she downed her drink in one gulp and poured a third as he continued to laugh as though it was the best joke he had ever heard.

“Wait, wait, wait, Commander, don’t tell me.” He took a moment and tried to catch his breath, clutching his side. “Oh man I'm going to break a rib from laughing — just — you and – and Garrus? Are you two…?”

Despite trying to keep her face neutral, the way that his eyes lit up told her that the secret was out. Resigning herself to having this conversation, she slumped onto the sofa beside him and sighed as he tried to do his best to compose himself. 

After a few painful minutes in which her cheeks continued burning and Joker’s laughter quieted only a smidge, she heaved a sigh before she spoke. “We might be. Or we want to. Or, well,” she took a gulp of her drink, “we talked about it.”

Joker was finally doing his best attempt to be sincere, pretending to think hard, his fingers on his chin. “Hmmm, yeah you know I actually like you two together.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You both tend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Joker, if it wouldn't risk permanently incapacitating you, I would punch you right now,” Shepard growled.

“All right, all right!” He held up his hands defensively. “But in all seriousness, Commander, I think I can help you.”

She looked at him over her glass, skeptical that he wasn't leading her into a trap for his own entertainment. Surely he simply wanted the leverage, the opportunity to laugh at her expense. Taking in the look on his face, which was somehow torn between amazement, humor, and earnestness, she pursed her lips as she considered.

“How so?”

“Well, I can’t really get out and about as much as I’d like, so I spend a lot of hours researching stuff on the extranet,” he began. He folded his arms carefully, mulling his words for a moment. “I got curious about how each of the different species ah — get busy, and whether or not they’re similar to humans. There’s actually some great resources out there, but they’re definitely not with the porn. Most of them are actually Asari made, seeing as they mate with everyone. But they’re also really accepting of the other races all trying to do the cross-species tango, and so they compiled some vids and information. I’ll send some to you.” 

He held her gaze as he spoke, still politely attempting to hide his smirk. As if he did genuinely want to help her — and yet couldn’t help but laugh at her all the same.

_ Asshat. _

“Thanks, Joker. And please,” she narrowed her eyes to emphasize her words, “ _ don’t _ tell anyone.”

“But you’re such a cute couple, I want people to know so they can ship it with me!”

“Hey, you owe me, remember?” Shepard raised an eyebrow, realizing she had an ace in the hole. “I died for you, if I recall correctly.”

“All right, fair point,” Joker admitted defeat, waving a hand in reluctant surrender. He heaved a deep sigh as if pained, and after several moments glanced sidelong after her. “So…when did this happen with you and Garrus? I mean, what’s going on?”

Shepard shrugged, no longer able to hold back the truth now that the secret had been spilled and the whiskey was loosening her tongue. “I don’t know exactly. I mean nothing concrete has happened yet, we just talked about…sex, to relieve some stress.”

“Oh come on, Commander!” Joker sounded incredulous, which surprised her. “You two are joined at the hip. This won’t just be stress relief for you.”

Deflecting his observation, Shepard finished her drink and stood, stretching as she did. “Was there a reason you came to my cabin at this hour,  _ Jeff _ , or did you just feel like trying to get some blackmail material on me?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll drop it." Joker flinched at her use of his first name. “Actually I wanted to talk about the ship and EDI some…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All threats of bodily harm to Joker do not reflect the opinions of this author.
> 
> xD
> 
> Again thank you for joining or revisiting this journey with me! <3


End file.
